


We All Fall Down

by Cherrys_Criminal_Mind



Category: Criminal Minds, Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-15 15:35:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 33
Words: 69,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11233971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cherrys_Criminal_Mind/pseuds/Cherrys_Criminal_Mind
Summary: A marriage falling apart. Well placed masks slipping from faces. A woman struggling to find out where she belongs and with who she belongs.





	1. One

You stared up at the ceiling, your eyes drawn to a marking in the corner. Was that a crack in the plaster or just a cobweb that had formed since the last time you had cleaned. Because to be honest, the last time you seriously cleaned this place had been a while ago. If it was a crack that had formed, well that was going to be problematic. But a cobweb could be swept away, making the corner clean again.

If only you could sweep everything away to make things clean again.

You should get out of bed and investigate but you knew you wouldn't. Just like you knew you change the bedsheets, and you knew you should at least have a shower today. The room was starting to smell a little. Instead though, you rolled over and buried your face into the pillow. You'd done enough today, having pulled on sweatpants and a t-shirt and heading to the store two buildings down. You needed more drink and you needed to dispose of some of the empty bottles that had accumulated on your bedside table. So that counted as some sort of cleaning at least, throwing them out. You'd used his credit card to pay, knowing that he'd stopped caring about the amount you were drinking. At first he commented, berated you somedays. But now, he didn't care. Did you want him to? You'd thought not but now you weren't so sure. Surely it was better that he didn't care.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you ignored the musty smell of the pillow case and slept.

Sleep.

The only way to escape from the misery of a life you had made for yourself. The only way to get through the excruciating pain that was your marriage. The only way to numb and dull all the thoughts that were contained within your memory. Yet no amount of sleeping ever made you any less exhausted. Exhausted with life, exhausted with simply just being. Exhausted at being backed into a corner that you couldn't get out of. Because you had no real way of getting out of, not really. And if we're being honest, you had no intention of getting out of. Because if you did you would have nowhere to go. The drinking helped the sleep, helped it helped bring about the dreamless darkness more easily.

The apartment door creaked, announcing that _he_ was home, three hours earlier than he should be. Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes but not out of your soul, you hauled yourself out of the bed where you'd been laying since your trip to  the store this morning, your clothes crumbled and your hair a mess. Nothing new there then. As you made your way to the bedroom door you listened. Listened to see what mood he was in. He was never home early, choosing to stay late most nights to avoid you. And you preferred it that way.

Oh what a sorry pair you were.

"Y/N," you heard him call, summoning you to him. He knew where you were but you also knew he wouldn't come to you. He rarely set foot in this room nowadays, sleeping in the guest bed or on the couch. You opened the door, still drawn to him like a moth to a flame whenever he said your name. When did it become that he had that power over you? It used to be the other way around.

He was pacing the lounge floor, his demeanor that of a man with a plan. A plan you wondered, whether it would involve yourself. Maybe not. Maybe he was home early to hand over the papers, to force you to receive the karma that you truly deserved. Would it be better that way? Yet as he turned your way, a disgusted look crossing his features when he saw the rumpled clothes and obvious lack of effort at life, you could see red rims around his eyes. He'd been crying.

"Spencer? Is everything....." could you even ask if everything was okay? Did you even have the right to ask that anymore? No you decided, you didn't.

"My father passed away last night. The funeral is in a few days. I need you to pack."

His father, William Reid. The man you had met only thrice in the four years you had been married. The man who you would now never have the chance to meet again.

You were torn in two suddenly by this news. One side, the side that still recognised yourself as Spencer's wife, told you to go to him. To comfort him. The other side, well the other side warned that if you tried then you would regret it. Deeply. As one side won out you stepped closer to him only to see him hold his hand up, a warning for you to stop. He didn't want you any closer. Could you blame him?

"Go and pack Y/N. I have some calls to make."

"How long will we be staying?" you asked timidly, your mind raking over the contents of your closet and trying to remember if you still had anything suitable to wear to a funeral. You must have, your closest was full of clothes that you simply ignored in favour of sweatpants and tee-shirts. There would be some remnants in there from your former life surely.

"For good. I'm selling the apartment."

What? Could he even.... Yes he could. The deeds were in his name.

"And where will we be living?" you asked carefully, wondering if there was even a 'we' in this equation.

"Mother has moved in with Jennifer and Will. The house in Elsmouth is far too big for her to live in by herself and Jennifer wants to keep an eye over her. I'm moving back home, to take over the house."

'I'm' not 'we' you noted.

"And what about me?"

Spencer stared at you coldly, his brown eyes that had once been so warm and loving now full of disinterest.

"That's up to you. Stay in New York, come back to Elsmouth, whatever. I don't particularly care. But as of four weeks today, this apartment is no longer home."

It hadn't been home for months now. Not that that mattered right now.

"So as of four weeks I no longer have anywhere to live?"

"That's up to you Y/N."

Was it though?

Well at least you would have to worry about whether it was a crack in the ceiling or a cobweb anymore. Either way, it wasn't your problem.

 


	2. Two

It wasn't up to you, not really. And he knew this. You had no friends in the city that you could have stayed with, no friends at all actually. Not anymore. You sometimes wondered whether you'd truly had any friends. You'd always been popular in high school and college but it was only after leaving that you realised that people only associated with you because you were pretty. Because back then, you took no shit from anyone. You were the girl guys wanted to sleep with and that girls wanted to be best friends with. But that didn't carry through. Now, you were a shell of your former self. Sure, if required you could still plaster on the mask of 'Spencer Reid's wife', his young trophy that you knew you had once been to him, however inappropriately he had gained you. Not that any of his work colleagues knew about that, there was a reason why you had moved once you had agreed to marry him. Although you were of age, it would have still ruined his reputation.

You wondered if you were to go back there, would any of your old college friends still be around? Or if you were to go back to your Aunt's who had looked after you since you were eleven years old, would she take you in? No, you remembered her words very clearly. _'You'll regret this one day. Just like your mother regretted it. And look where she is now.'_ If you knew where she was then perhaps you would. But you hadn't seen Amanda Y/L/N since she walked out on you and your father when you were seven years old. Aunt Lorel was right though. And she wouldn't take you in, you were sure of that much.

Two days after Spencer dropped the bomb that you were leaving New York and returning to Nevada, you found yourself on a flight, not seated with your husband. At check in, the customer service clerk had been extremely confused.

"So we have one ticket for first class and one for economy?" she stared at the screen, her brow wrinkled. "I'm so terribly sorry Mr and Mrs Reid, there must have been an issue with the booking. Let me have a look, I'm sure there's another seat in first class we can find for Mrs Reid."

"There's no problem, this is what I booked." Spencer placed his passport back into his briefcase and handed yours back to you. You avoided eye contact with the woman who was now staring at you incredulously. You knew what she was thinking. Why had your husband booked not just separate seats, but seats in completely different parts of the plane?

To punish you. You hated flying at the best of times. Luckily you had foreseen that Spencer would do something like this and had bought your prescription bottle of Xanax along for the ride. You rarely took it now, preferring alcohol as your tranquiliser of choice, but luckily the script was still on repeat and would help get you through the next few days.

Boarding passes printed and handed over, the check in desk clerk giving you a pitying look, you both made your way through the airport. Spencer didn't speak to you at all. When you set the alarms off going through airport security, an old safety pin that you hadn't realised was in your pocket, he didn't even wait for you. You found him sat in a coffee shop after scouring the airport for him. You felt ridiculous, like a lost dog trailing after its human. It was clear he didn't want you here so why could he not just tell you that. Why could he not just give you the divorce papers and release you from this. At least then your hand would be forced and you would have to find a way to survive.

You sat opposite him, drinking from a bottle of water that you'd picked up whilst searching for him. He looked different, so much more confident than when you'd first met him. He was no longer the bumbling 29 year old English professor he once was. Five years on from your first meeting and he'd finally learned how to dress himself, your digs at him about dressing like a grandfather in the first few months of your relationship obviously sticking. He no longer slathered his hair in product, letting his waves flow freely. And he swapped out his messenger bag for a professional briefcase. For the first time in ages you properly looked at your husband. He looked good. Much better than you did currently.

"What?" he asked you, glaring over the top of his newspaper.

"Nothing. Nothing at all," you replied, averting you gaze and feeling like a child who had been caught doing something she should. Perhaps you had been.

He went back to reading and you thought back to the last few days. The apartment had been hurriedly packed up, only a few suitcases allowed on the flight. The rest was being moved via vans and should be arriving in the next few days. Spencer had handed you a pile of cardboard boxes, already labelled Y/N's room. Not bedroom, just your room. You knew the house in Elsmouth had multiple bedrooms so at least he would have his own rather sleeping in the guest room.

You'd cautiously asked him during packing why he was so sure you had to be out within four weeks. Surely the apartment had to go on the market and have viewings?

"Do you know how long the waiting list for this building is Y/N? Obviously not, you never did realise how much effort I put into selecting the perfect home in the perfect neighbourhood, just for you." He didn't need to say that it was you could have the perfect family with him. The funny thing? You'd never out loud mentioned what you wanted in a home, not really caring at that point. He'd taken it from your writings, the stories you submitted in class. This was where he thought he had learned everything about you. He scowled as he piled his books into boxes. "As soon as I told the apartment manager I was looking to sell, he came forward with a buyer. I've made quite the profit on it too."

 _He_ had made the profit. Despite the fact that it was you that had stripped and decorated the apartment. Originally Spencer had intended to get decoraters in but once it became evident that you wouldn't need the rooms decorating in time for.... well just within a set time period, you used decorating as a coping mechanism. It gave you something to do. You were no longer able to write, that passion had died when you'd had your heart broken so instead you turned the shell of the apartment into a home. It kept you busy.

Could you really complain though? After all, everything had been done on Spencer's dime. His family were well off and his own books had sold well. And his job wasn't exactly badly paid. He had paid for the wedding, the honeymoon. He had paid for the house and the move. And he had funded you for the past four years. You hadn't finished your degree, had given up on writing, hadn't even considered trying to get a job because you had no real skills to offer. You'd waitressed during that first year of college, you'd had to. The amount that you'd been left following your father's death had covered your rent for the four years and had made up the rest of the tuition that your scholarship hadn't covered. Stupidly, you'd paid the four years rent up front, thinking that otherwise you'd blow the money. And as you'd chosen an apartment off campus and hadn't really read the lease agreement, when you came to moving out you discovered that you couldn't claim the three years you wouldn't be living there back. But at that point Spencer had convinced you that he was taking care of everything. And you were letting him. So you had nothing.

Your flight was called and Spencer led the way to the gate, you trailing behind him. Once boarded, he turned one way and you turned the other, immediately popping a pill once you got into your seat. The flight was six hours and you hoped it would go quickly.

...

For once, things went in your favour. You were seated near the front of economy so once the air stewardess began the in flight service you ordered a double whisky, knocking it back quickly. The alcohol combined with the pill you had taken had you falling into a sleep so deep that upon landing, the cabin crew had to nudge you awake. As you disembarked the plane you saw Spencer waiting for you, looking irritated that he had been held up. You didn't apologise and instead concentrated on wiping the sleep out of your eyes and trying to clean the fuzz off your teeth with just your tongue and water.

Once your baggage was collected you made your way into the foyer where you were greeted by your brother in law by marriage, William LaMontagne. His greeting was warm to you both, him pulling you into a hug and whispering "it's good to see you sis."

You'd only met Will a handle of times, he was the member of Spencer's family that you'd actually engaged with the most. Occasionally he had business in the city and would make dinner arrangements with Spencer and yourself, although more recently it had only been Spencer. You didn't even know about their meetings until you heard a voicemail left on the landline from Will, thanking Spencer for dinner and commenting that he hoped you felt better soon. Perhaps Will would be an ally for you, a friend even. You certainly weren't going to find friendship with his wife.

Jennifer Joy, or JJ as she was more commonly known. You were pretty certain she knew. She and Spencer were ridiculously close, even given the distance between them. You'd answered the phone one night when she was calling after Spencer and she'd been colder towards you than she'd ever been, not that she was your biggest fan to begin with. She judged you, when really she should have been judging her brother too.

The ride to the house took another hour, Will and Spencer chatting idily as you stared out of the windows. When you'd originally heard who would be teaching your college syllabus you'd done some research. Spencer Reid was Googleable. He was from Nevada which of course everybody immediately assumed meant Las Vegas. But no, Spencer was from a tiny town around two hours from the Las Vegas city limits. A town where everyone knew everybody else. A town you were sure you were going to hate. You'd never been here before, you see. Spencer's family had always come to him. And now you were both going to them.

Whether you liked it or not. 


	3. Chapter 3

By the time Will pulled into a driveway and stopped the car it was pushing 10pm. You were exhausted, a feeling that wasn't exactly new to you but the combination of the Xanax and the flying made it ten times worse. Ever the southern gentleman Will opened your door for you and held his hand out, frowning slightly when you took it and swayed gently on your feet as you exited the car.

"You okay darlin'?" he asked kindly. You nodded.

"Just tired, it's been a long few days."

"Perhaps a few more of those pills will help you sleep tonight, Y/N," your husband commented, a slight edge to his voice. How did he even know you'd refilled the prescription? Will looked between you both, his expression unreadable.

"I get anxious when I fly," you told Will, not wanting to sully your name any further. You couldn't be sure how much he knew.

"I'm the same doll, I'm the same. No matter how many times I do it and I still think that metal bird is just gonna drop outta the sky. Let's get you both inside and then you can sleep."

"Actually Will, I'd like to come and visit mother if could bring me home with you. Y/N can stay here, and I'll catch a cab home later."

He couldn't really make it anymore obvious that he didn't want to be around you, could he? Will's eyes flickered slightly but he nodded all the same, pulling a set of keys out and tossing them to Spencer. He fumbled slightly and almost dropped them, causing you to bite back the smirk that threatened to cross your face. Small victories.

"You go and open up and I'll bring your suitcases in."

Spencer walked towards the front door and you waited a few seconds before following. It was dark out so you couldn't see much but the house was much larger already than what you were used to. But then again you were used to apartments. He fussed around with the keys for a moment and then swung open the large wooden front door. He motioned for you to enter as he went back to the car to help Will.

You stepped inside the foyer seeing a large staircase in front of you with rooms leading off a hallway. Spying a light switch, you flicked it on and took in your surroundings. The walls were papered in a deep blue with pictures and mirrors dotted about. In the dim light you could see dust coating the wooden picture frames, the wallpaper peeling away by the skirting boards. This suprised you, Spencer had always made out that this place was a grand family home and now it seemed unloved. At least from the small amount that you could see. A thud on the floor and a sudden presence besides you startled you.

"I forget that you've never been here before, have you doll? Will's kind face came into view and you shook your head.

"Not what you expected eh?"

"I'm not sure what I was expecting really," you replied to your brother in law.

"Well with William being so ill Diana didn't really get chance to keep house. She cared for him here, as much as she could to begin with but it became too much even for her. He deteriorated quite quickly over the past year, eventually being moved into the hospice. She's been staying with us since then."

Spencer's father had been ill for a year?

You couldn't react and show that you weren't aware of that fact. But, what the fuck?

"I imagine that was very hard on her, even with her training," you replied.

"I think her training made it harder to be honest, the fact that she's saved so many other people but couldn't save him."

Although retired now, Diana Reid had been an oncologist at one of the major hospitals in the area. Spencer had told you repeatedly how she was being headhunted constantly but refused to leave Nevada. Her job took her away from the home as it was already. The hospital was a ninety minute drive from Elsmouth, Spencer once recalling to you how he and his twin had waited up until 2am just to see her Diana on her birthday. William Reid had been the stay at home dad, a novelist being able to write stories whilst the children were being schooled. Spencer had gotten his love of worlds from his father where as Jennifer had trained as a midwife, not quite following her mother's footsteps but stepping close enough to them.

"What are you two talking about?" Spencer had followed you both inside, depositing the last of the suitcases on the floor.

"I was just telling Y/N how much we've missed her. It was a shame she was always so busy whenever you came to visit us Spencer."

More revelations. Spencer had left town on a few occasions, book signings or guest lecturing he had told you. Apparently not. You kept your face neutral, wondering what Will's game was. That had not been what you'd been talking about at all.

"Yes well, my wife had things she much rather have been doing. Visiting her sick father in law was not a priority."

Your jaw dropped and you stuttered out, "P-perhaps if you had told me how sick he was....."

Will touched your arm lightly. "It's okay doll, we all know how Spencer likes to downplay things."

Spencer just nodded, his interest in shaming you now thwarted as Will had come to your defence.

"So listen, Momma Reid had Jayge and I restock the kitchen for you guys. There's some basic groceries and a few bottles of wine around. We changed the sheets in the guest bedroom.... We weren't sure how you'd feel sleeping in the master, what with all their stuff being in there still. We'll all pitch in and help clear this place up for you once the funeral is over."

The funeral was tomorrow and you were exhausted, suddenly feeling on the verge of passing out. Even the mention of wine hadn't piqued your interest. You yawned, no longer to keep it in.

"Shall I show Y/N to the guest.... Well, bedroom?" Will asked, watching Spencer carefully. Your husband nodded, suddenly staring at a family photograph on the wall, his jaw clenched.

You made to grab your bag and Will lifted your suitcase, leading the way up the stairs and flicking on lights as he went.

"There's a bathroom attached to the bedroom so you'll be fine tonight. Kitchen is at the end of the hall down stairs if you do need anything from it. I expected Spencer to want to give you the grand tour but I guess he's got other things on his mind. JJ has been the same these last few days, scatty as a kitten who's lost its tail."

He swung open another door for you and led you into a large bedroom, a king-size bed taking up the centre although you were quite certain you'd be sleeping in it alone.

"Listen, Y/N. If you ever wanna... if you ever wanna talk about anything, just give me a call alright? About anything. Anything at all." He looked at you pointedly and reached into his pocket pulling out a card. You'd almost forgetten that Will was the deputy sheriff. Taking his card you shoved it into your pocket, suddenly feeling a lump in your throat.

"We'd best get going if he wants to see his mom. She'll be ready for bed right around now. I'll see you tomorrow Y/N. Sleep well darlin'."

Your brother in law left and you waited until your heard the front close before you stripped down to your underwear and fell into a the bed, falling almost instantly into a dreamless slumber.


	4. Chapter 4

When you awoke the next morning it was to sunlight streaming through the windows. You'd neglected to close them last night and as you lay there, you could see dust particles floating in the sunbeams. The bed was soft and comfortable and for the first time in what felt like an age, you actually felt momentarily rested. 

Until you remembered where you were and what today was. 

You were alone in the room as expected and you couldn't even see any evidence that Spencer had entered it last night. This was his childhood home though so he would know the whereabouts of the other bedrooms and had likely stayed in one of them or downstairs. If he had even returned to the house at all. 

A grumble within your tummy reminded you that you hadn't eaten since the flight yesterday and reluctantly, you hauled yourself out of bed, pulling back on the clothes you'd discarded yesterday. You slowly made your way back downstairs, searching for the kitchen in the unfamiliar house. That was where you found your husband. 

He was sat at a circular kitchen table, black coffee which you knew would have at least four sugars in it in front of him and the local paper clasped in his hands. 

"Morning," you greeted him, resolving with yourself that today, you wouldn't fall out. He didn't need that on the day of his father's funeral and you didn't need that when you were going to be surrounded by his family. You were still his wife, you had to at least put on a front and make a show that you were supporting him. Although, you genuinely did want to support him if you could. You remembered when your own father had died, how low and lost you'd become. 

Spencer didn't respond, barely glancing up from his paper. Spying a toaster and a bread bin you set about making some toast for yourself, trying to ignore the question that been niggling at you since last night. After spreading your toast, you sat opposite him at the table, making a mental note to attempt to locate cleaning supplies and to mop the floor at some point over the next few days. It felt slightly tacky underfoot. Munching on your breakfast, the niggle grew larger and larger until you couldn't not ask. 

"Spencer, why didn't you tell me your father was ill?" 

You almost didn't expect him to even respond. 

"Isn't that what we do now? Not tell each other things." His voice was quiet and calm, which was why you pushed him when you shouldn't have. 

"But this was important." 

He folded the paper and set it down, staring at you coldly. "So was you deciding to have an abortion but you didn't tell me until after you'd done it." 

Ouch. The was as cutting as he'd intended it to be. Still, you tried to look past it. His father had just died after all. 

"This is completely different Spencer...." 

"Is it?" he interrupted you. "I don't tell you my father is dying until after he's already dead and you don't tell me until after you've already killed our child." 

You couldn't help it, blurting out,"It wasn't OUR child." 

Spencer's eyes narrowed and he shoved his chair backwards, standing upright. Then he seemed to explode, shocking you completely. "So I'm constantly reminded. It was HIS. Everything about you was always HIS. Even when I thought you were mine, that you loved me, you were HIS. I was wrong about you, so fucking wrong. You're just a spoilt little girl who took what she could get, smashing peoples hearts along the way. I was blinded by you for so long but I see you now Y/N. I see you for what you truly are. It's no wonder he didn't want you, it's no wonder he didn't want the baby he'd put inside of you. It's no wonder.... " 

"SHUT UP!" you shrieked, your hands flying to cover your ears as you begged yourself not to cry. He hadn't even reacted like this when he'd found about the abortion, simply turning cold towards you which you almost thought was worse. He stalked over to you and angrily pulled your hands down, his fingers gripping your wrists tightly. He lowered his face so that it was level with yours. 

"I knew I'd always be second best to him but I thought that maybe, after everything he'd done to you, you'd see that he was the bad guy and I was the good. But no. Even after all I had done for you, everything we'd been through with Lara, with the cancer, after everything I gave you, you still went back. I could even forgive the affair, you know. But not that. You killed the one thing I wanted more than anything. The one thing I could no longer have naturally. And I hate you for that." 

His face was closer to yours now, the coffee on his breath filling your nose. His grip on your wrists was so tight you were sure you were going to bruise. 

"I didn't tell you about my father because I didn't want you to pity me. I didn't want anything from you anymore. I didn't want my family thinking you were the perfectly lovely little wifey." 

"So why did you even bring me here then? You could have left me in New York. You could have divorced me," you finally managed to respond to him. 

"Because for some unknown reason, my mother likes you. And she's been through enough without dealing with this too. That is the only reason you are still my wife on paper and in name. The ONLY reason. Now go and get dressed, and make a fucking effort. You've looked disgusting recently." 

He released your wrists and stalked out of the room leaving you wondering how this morning had turned so wrong so quickly.


	5. Chapter 5

You spent the next thirty minutes after Spencer’s outburst in the shower, water running over your body as you repeatedly told yourself that it wasn’t your fault.

Or at least, not all of it was your fault. Spencer Reid knew what he was getting into that night at the bar, a bar you really shouldn’t have been in as you weren’t legally able to drink. He knew how heartbroken you were over… ugh, you couldn’t even think his name without tears of both anger and sadness filling your eyes. But he had still pursued you, just like you now suspected he had been doing for weeks. Complimentary notes on your essays, handwritten feedback on your stories, requests for you to stay behind after class so he could go over some ideas with you. You’d secretly enjoyed the attention from him at first, after all being the professor’s favourite couldn’t do any harm to your grades, and the novels Spencer had published had been interesting. You enjoyed chatting with him about your work in the way that any 19 year student who is having her work complimented would enjoy it. And he was cute, in a geeky kinda of way. Not ‘I’d totally bang him for extra credit cute’ like the way he would be probably be perceived as now though. Just cute. And sweet. And you really didn’t think too much of it at the time. You’d been naive. And look where it had gotten you. If only you’d just stayed home that night….

_The vodka burned your throat, making your eyes water and your head hum as you tossed another one back. You’d been in this particular bar for around two hours now, sat propping up the bar. The bartender didn’t ID you, they rarely did anyway but they knew you in here now, you’d visited every night this week. The wad of your hard earned waitressing money that was quickly being depleted probably helped things along too, but right now you didn’t care. You weren’t sure if you’d ever care about anything again. Because right now it felt as if your whole entire being had been shattered into a thousand tiny pieces. And all because of a boy._

_No, not just A boy though. He was THE boy. The boy that you had known since you were five years old. The boy that had been there when your mom left, when your dad had died and you’d been shipped to your aunt’s house. The boy that at just fourteen years of age you’d given your virginity to, and had spent the next four years loving more deeper than you ever thought you could love anyone. You’d even applied for a scholarship at the same college as him, you both proclaiming that you couldn’t bear to be apart from each for so long._

_This was the same boy that five days ago had told you that he had found somebody else. That he loved you but not in the way you loved him. He was so very sorry but he’d never felt this way before. He didn’t want to hurt you, could you still be friends?_

_No. The answer to that was a resounding no. How could you be friends with someone who you had once thought you would marry but who it turned out had been seeing a girl from the same English class as you, behind your back for six weeks? How could you be friends with someone who had driven a spike into your chest and twisted it so roughly? How could you be friends with someone you would have done anything for who you now know wouldn’t do the same for you?_

_How could you be friends with someone who had broken your heart?_

_You couldn’t._

_Over the last five days you’d fallen apart. Your apartment was still full of his things so you couldn’t handle being there right now. Part of you wanted to tear his clothes to shreds, the other part wanted to wear them and never take them off. After he told you he was endings things you didn’t know what to do with yourself. You’d never been dumped before because despite all the rumours in high school, he had been your only boyfriend. He had been the only boy you’d ever wanted and you were so very sure he’d be the only boy you’d ever want. You’d left your apartment and wandered the streets, completely blowing off your classes and ignoring concerned messages from your “friends”. Eventually you found yourself in a bar, drinking yourself senseless. Somehow you made it back to your apartment each night, the taste of bile in your mouth the day morning indicating that your binging had resulted in your stomach being emptied. Then when you woke up the next day you repeated the cycle. Walk the streets, occasionally find a child’s playground to sit in, then find a bar and get trashed._

_This night was different though._

_“Y/N?”_

_You squinted, pushing the hair that had fallen over your face back._

_“Heeeey, it’s Professor Reid!” you tried to be upbeat, thinking that if you acted happy he wouldn’t initiate further conversation. You were wrong._

_“Y/N, is everything okay? You’ve not been to class all week. Are you…. are you alright?”_

_You glanced at your professor again. Your very sweet professor. One of your friends Kate had joked that he had a crush on you. He was always asking you to stay behind to go over some of your work, and he would always use examples from your own stories in class. You’d always laughed her off but now you couldn’t help but wonder if she was right. Maybe you wanted her to be right. Because at least then it meant that someone wanted you._

_Just thinking that last sentence bought another sob to your chest and your professor moved closer to you, placing his hand on your arm lightly._

_“Y/N…. Has something happened? You can talk to me if you want to.”_

_Your drink was empty but you suddenly felt the need to spill everything out._

_“Buy me another drink, please. I’ll tell you everything.”_

_He shouldn’t have. He was 29 to your 19 and he knew exactly how old you were. But he did. You weren’t drunk and the three drinks he bought you that night did not push you over the edge into doing something that you weren’t consensual of. But it did make you do something you came to regret._

_You spilled the whole sorry story out to him, stopping calling him professor and calling him Spencer as he begged you to after the first drink. You told him how Derek Morgan had broken your heart, and how you couldn’t bear to come to class because Jordan Todd was there. She was who he had left you for, a beautiful girl who was obviously so much better than you in every single way. She must have been._

_“Don’t say that Y/N, that’s not true,” Spencer had told you, looking deeply into your tear stained eyes._

_“It has to be!”_

_“It’s not. Y/N, you’re beautiful. You’re the reason I look forward to our classes so much. Your writing is incredible and only someone with such a beautiful soul could write words as breathtaking as what you do.”_

_“My soul isn’t beautiful,” you spat out._

_“It is. And your are. You’re so beautiful Y/N. How he could do this to you I don’t understand. How anyone could hurt someone as beautiful as you is beyond me.”_

_Except, everyone hurt me. Everyone leaves me,you thought. Your mom left, your dad died. Derek had left you. Everyone leaves one way or another. Right now you needed to hear something._

_“If you were him, would have left me?” you stared at Spencer, noticing for the first time how intense his brown eyes were. They never left your face as his breathed out his response._

_“Never.”_

_So from there you ended up in Spencer Reid’s apartment, somewhere you were both very much aware that you shouldn’t have been. Somewhere else you shouldn’t have been was his bed but that was where you awoke the next morning, his arm locked tightly around your waist. The immediate thought of “What have I done?” flooded your mind. You knew exactly what you had done. You had slept with your professor. It hadn’t even been particularly good sex either. What you had wanted, no…. what you had needed was a furious fuck, something to rid your mind of Derek Morgan momentarily. What you had gotten was Spencer staring deeply into your eyes, telling you how beautiful you were over and over again. He was slow, taking his time. Whenever you tried to do some thing to him he’d push your hand awake, telling you he just wanted to make you feel good. You hadn’t even finished, suddenly becoming so tired of it all that you just wanted to sleep. So you acted your way through an orgasm and then passed out._

_The next four weeks at school were awkward. Spencer… Professor Reid, no longer called on you in classroom once you’d returned, he no longer asked you to stay behind. But you could still feel his eyes on you, watching you. You avoided Jordan Todd at all costs, moving to a seat the other side of the room and close to the exit. And you avoided Derek as much as possible, finally packing up his things and leaving them outside your apartment for him to collect._

_After five weeks you realised you hadn’t had your period. You hadn’t slept with Derek in weeks on the run up to your break up, something that should have screamed out to you that something was wrong. And despite you being on the pill, Derek always used condoms. Begrudgingly, you took a test, not even reacting when a plus sign showed up on the stick. It didn’t surprise you, not really. This was just another thing you’d fucked up._

_You showed up at Spencer’s apartment, intending on asking him for half the money it would cost for you to visit a clinic. Instead though, he was happy. He begged you to keep it, you could be a family together he told you. Not here, you’d have to leave the state and you’d have to leave college. He could get another teaching job easily though and it was nearly the end of the school year. You could go back to school in a few years, get a nanny._

_He loved you, he told you. He had done since the first day he’d seen you, since the first time he’d read your words. “Let me love you, let me take care of you. Let me marry you.”_

_And not feeling like you had anything else going for you, you let him._

You stared at the mirror, wiping off the steam which clouded it with your hands. A pale woman with sunken, almost dead eyes stared back at you.

You needed to pull yourself together.

At least for today.

 


	6. Chapter 6

The funeral was, well as far as funerals go it was as nice as it could be. 

You'd finally pulled yourself together and got dressed, realising at the last minute that the short sleeved black shrug you were going to wear wasn't going to be adequate. Spencer had gripped your wrists so tightly this morning that you now had red marks on each arm, marks you knew would soon turn light purple. You'd always bruised easily, often waking up after drinking binges with marks that you couldn't remember where they came from or how you got then. You traded it for a long black cardigan, Spencer giving you the once over when you met him in the hallway. You must have met his approval for a change as he didn't comment. 

A car came to pick you up, Diana, Jennifer and Will seated inside. Diana greeted you warmly, clasping your hands as you sat opposite her. Her eyes were red rimmed as was to be expected but she seemed to be coping well. The ceremony itself was full of heartfelt readings from the family and afterwards the funeral goers made their way out to the graveside. You stood by Spencer's side, as close to him as you dared stand without touching him. He'd barely spoken to you at all since you'd like left the house this morning. 

Afterwards, you didn't know what to do with yourself. The was family was being approached by various people, all of whom wanted to offer Diana and her children their condolences. You spotted a bench off to once side and took yourself away to it, sitting and waiting until you were summoned by Spencer again. 

In the end it wasn't Spencer who came to you, it was his mother, your mother in law. She sat by you and rested her hand on your knee, the contact unfamiliar to you. 

"My dear, we're all going back to the house now. William didn't want a wake as such but the family and a few close friends will be there."

You waited, unsure what you were meant to say. Spencer was stood close to by, a frown on his face. Diana continued. 

"Spencer had mentioned that you weren't feeling well this morning and that you might not be able to join us. A migraine he said?" Ah, another illness stopping you from interacting with his family. You caught his eye, seeing him shake his head. 

"I wondered if you were perhaps feeling well enough to come with us? I haven't seen you in so long, and although I know I'll be able to see a lot more of you now that you're staying in town, on days like these family should really all be together. Will you come? I have some extra strong painkillers back at the house if it is very bad."

Spencer was glaring at you now, his mother oblivious to it. Don't you dare, his eyes were saying. You didn't want to anger him but you didn't want to say no to Diana. She was being so nice to you and seemed to want you there with them. 

Against your better judgement you found yourself replying, "I feel much better now. I think it was just the emotion of today getting to me. Of course I'll come with you."

...

The rest of your afternoon was spent with you feeling so incredibly out of place. Both Spencer and Jennifer barely acknowledged your presence, where as Will and Diana seemed to be trying to go out of their way to make you feel welcome. Diana had linked her arm through yours once you'd entered the LaMontagne residence, the close physical contact making you jump. She led you towards a large couch, parking you down and sitting next to you, instructing Will to bring you both a large glass of wine. 

You paced yourself, knowing that getting drunk this particular afternoon would do you no favours at all although you desperately wanted to throw back the whole glass in one go and ask for the rest of the bottle. Expecting Diana to bombard you with questions about yours and Spencer's lives together, you were suprised when she didn't. Instead she settled for felling you about the town you had moved to, about her and William's favourite spots and the best place (there weren't many) to buy take out from. 

"Spencer must get you a car sorted though, my darling. In case you haven't noticed your not exactly in the centre of town. You're nearest neighbours are my friends, Tara and Emily," she nodded over to two friendly looking women who were fussing with the buffet that was laid out. "And they're a two mile walk away."

Although you hadn't noticed it last night, you certainly had this morning on the drive to the church. You were at least five miles from the nearest store which with a car, was fine. But so far there was no mention of a car for either yourself or Spencer, although something told you he would find his way to own one. You, on the other hand.... 

Diana went on chatting away and you tried to appear interested and sincere. She really was a very lovely woman, kind and warm. Almost exactly how Spencer had been to begin with. You wondered if she too could switch so quickly to cold if the mood took her. After a while you excused yourself to the bathroom, ignoring the glares coming from your husband and his twin. 

You dawdled in the bathroom for longer than perhaps was necessary, taking a slow walk back to the large living area and pausing by some photos on the walls. What suprised you was that you were the subject of one of the photos. Well, you and Spencer. It was taken at your wedding, him looking more handsome that you'd ever seen him before at the point. Your eyes were drawn to your tummy. The Reid family had connections so the wedding was only eight weeks after you'd discovered your pregnancy. You couldn't tell, not really. But you knew that underneath the clichéd white lace in the photograph was a tiny bump. A bump that didn't ever get chance to grow much larger. You blinked quickly, looking instead at the other occupants of the image. Will and Jennifer were stood at your side, Will grinning widely at the camera. Jennifer was smiling but it didn't quite reach her eyes. In her arms though, was a blonde haired, blue eyed two year old. Your nephew Henry. You'd only met him a few times, like the rest of the Reid family. Henry though had never had any misgivings towards you. He never treated you coldly or smiled at you in a way that you knew wasn't really a smile, like his mother did. He looked at you with the grin that any child looked at an adult who willing to get down on all fours and play Lego with them. You wondered where he was?

"Great photo, isn't it?" Will had appeared at your side. You nodded, more out of politeness than anything. 

"Where is Henry anyway?" you asked, suddenly feeling a longing for your nephew. 

"My parents have him for a few days. Jj thought he was too young to be here with all this going on. I agree to an extent, he is too young to fully comprehend why all these people are here."

That made sense.

"I'm pleasantly surprised to see you here this afternoon though Y/N. Spencer had us all believing you'd be heading back to house to sleep off a migraine." Will looked at you pointedly and you sensed a kinship with him somehow. Like he was on your side. At least for now anyway. 

"I get the feeling Spencer may often tell people that I'm debilitated with a migraine when in fact, there's nothing wrong with me," you risked. 

"Yeah, so do I. Come on, let's get you back to Diana." Will nudged you lightly towards the door, you both stopping inside the living room when you saw that Spencer had taken up your seat. 

"Or maybe not," Will breathed out under his breath. 

"No, perhaps not," you agreed, looking around the room at all the people you realised you didn't know. You asked Will who people were. 

"Honestly Y/N, you don't need to know who most of these people are. Some are from William's old publishing house, there's the odd nurse from the hospital and a few teachers from his lecturing days at the high school. Emily and Tara are worth knowing though, they're your closest neighbours and are really great people. Tara is one of the town's General Practitioners so she literally knows everyone, and Emily owns her own catering business. She catered today actually. Over in the corner there, talking to Jayge is Henry's teacher Luke Alvez. He's a pretty swell guy too. His dad was very close to William and William mentored Luke a little when he was in college."

You looked around at the people Will was pointing out to you. Names to faces for people that you'd probably rarely speak to. Names for people who lived in the town you felt you'd had no choice to come to. 

"Is it okay if I go through to the next kitchen and grab myself a drink Will?" you suddenly felt the need to escape again. 

"Sure thing doll, you want me to come with and keep you company?" 

You shook your head. "It's fine. I just need a breather."

Will nodded and you made your way through to the closed off kitchen area and poured yourself a glass of water. The wine was extremely tempting but you resisted. Catering trays and various kitchen items littered the counter tops and you decided to make a yourself useful. Filling the sink, you rolled up your sleeves and began slowly washing the utensils and dirty equipment that you were sure Emily must have used. 

A good thirty minutes or so must have passed when you heard a female voice, "you don't have to do that."

Startled, you nearly dropped the glass you'd been washing and spun around to see Emily and Tara staring at you. 

"I um.... I wanted to help."

"That's very sweet but we normally just load everything into the back of the car and toss it into the dishwasher," the woman Will had pointed out as Tara spoke up. "Emily has an industrial sized one just for these occasions. She claims she gets her hands dirty far too much to be washing up."

Emily nudged her playfully. "Hey now, I do. You try cleaning day old pastry mix out and tell me how easy it is."

"No no no love, I'll leave that to you." Tara turned back to you. "You're Y/N right? Spencer's wife?" 

On paper you guessed. You nodded, their faces lighting up. 

"Diana speaks very highly of you," Emily smiled. You frowned. Diana barely knew you. 

"We were planning on dropping by at some point, welcome you to town properly," Tara told you. 

Voices approached the closed kitchen door and the two women stopped talking. 

"She went to get a drink Spencer, I'm sure she's fine."

You didn't hear what he replied but seconds later he and Will had entered the kitchen. 

Will bit back a chuckle when he saw the counter tops laden with drying dishes. 

"And apparently she's decided to clean up as well."

You expected some cold remark from Spencer about how you never even did that back at home but instead his eyes were focused on your arms. Your bare wrists specifically. 

Shit. 

You hurried to roll your sleeves down to hide the very obvious marks around your wrists but it was too late, Will had seen them. 

"Y/N, darlin', is there anything you wanna tell me?" 

You shook your head, avoiding Will's gaze and staring at Spencer. He looked shocked.... and somehow ashamed. 

"Are you sure doll?"

You could feel Emily and Tara staring at you too and you knew you had to think quickly. They all would have seen. 

You laughed, "Look , I know what you think you saw Will and I appreciate your concern. The truth is, it's a little embarrassing. Spencer and I... Well, sometimes I like it a little rough in the bedroom.... and I think with the emotion of today and everything, well...." 

"Say no more, Y/N," Emily interrupted you, breaking the tension that had formed. "Tara is a little tiger in the sack too. So many times I've had to cover up marks from her."

"The woman tells no lies," Tara laughed, not embarrassed at all. 

Will looked between you and Spencer, his eyes searching his brother in law. Finally, he spoke. "Well alrighty then. Maybe keep you those sleeves rolled down then. I'm sure Momma Reid doesn't wanna discover that her baby boy is a freak between the sheets." He laughed but to you it sounded forced. Still, situation difused. You let Will and the girls lead you back to the living from, Spencer staying behind in the kitchen. 

... 

The day had been long and finally you were home. Well, to Spencer's childhood home. The cab ride home had been quiet, but then again when wasn't time with Spencer quiet recently? 

You entered the foyer of the house that felt so unfamiliar to you and was just about to head upstairs when Spencer called your name. 

"Y/N?" 

You paused, turning to him. 

"I.... I'm sorry. For this morning. I didn't realise I'd.... I didn't realise I'd hurt you. I'm so very sorry."

Oh. 

"And thank you, for covering it up with Will."

You nodded, not really knowing what to say. You started to walk away, taking the stairs one step at a time when you stopped again. He was still there, watching you walk away from him. 

"I'm sorry too Spencer."

For everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Erm, this is the sixth chapter and so far I've received very little feedback. I have no idea if people are reading and enjoying this so really no idea if you want me to continue. I haven't written anything new in a while so feedback is really the only thing that is going to keep this going. If you guys aren't liking it, then there's no point in me continuing.


	7. Chapter 7

Over the next few days you sunk back into old habits. The first morning after the funeral you awoke to find the house empty. Not even a note from Spencer telling you where he had gone. You couldn’t text him, you’d smashed your cell a while ago in frustration, never bothering to replace it, and there was no landline in the house either. You pottered around, opening doors to the rooms upstairs and discovering that Spencer was sleeping in what must have been Henry’s room for when he stayed over. His bags were in there and the bed clothes on the child sized bed were slept in.

You wondered why, having observed that was another guest bedroom which you had passed by. When you went back to check it out though, it became apparent that mattress was shot to pieces. Anyone sleeping on that bed would need a trip to the chiropractors. The bed did seem slept in though that led you to believe that he must have at least attempted this room first. During your wanderings you located the master bedroom. You could see that Diana must have emptied a good portion of her belongings out already, or perhaps Jennifer and Will had. Every surface though was still littered with pill bottles, dressings, cream. Some names you recognised as painkillers and muscle relaxants, codeine, diazapan, tramadol. Others you’d never heard of before, tarceva, sunitinab. Next to one side of the bed was a drip stand, an empty saline bag still hanging there. There was an odd smell to the room too, something you couldn’t quite place. If you looked beyond the mess, the room was huge and although one side of the bed looked raised (pressure pads added to the mattress you discovered), you’d bet that if the sheets were changed and the room aired out, it would make for a loverly room. Given its current state though, you could see why Spencer had chosen Henry’s room.

You took in the downstairs, room by room. A large kitchen which you’d seen already with a casual dining area. A grand looking dining room which looked like it hadn’t been used in years. A large sitting room with beautiful window seats which in a different life, you could have imagined yourself loving. There was a study that doubled up as a library, works by both William and Spencer Reid adorning the shelves along with the classics. And there was another study room, a tiny area with medical texts stacked on overflowing shelves, Diana’s study you assumed.

After realising that you couldn’t exactly leave the house as you couldn’t even find a set of keys to lock up, you wandered back to the kitchen. Although the fridge had been stocked by Jennifer it was with basics only. Butter, milk, a few packets of deli meat. There was still bread that was in date and you located a pantry with a large chest freezer of which the contents had frozen over so badly you couldn’t ever chip a packet out to see what it contained. There were also some tins and jars lining the dusty shelves, their expiration dates past. The only thing of real interest that you found was a wine rack. Not finding anything better to do with your day, you grabbed a bottle and took it back to the sitting room, flicking on the TV and channel surfing until you found a cooking show marathon.

You slept on and off, curled up on the sofa and trying to ignore the noises of the house settling. After draining one bottle, you went and made yourself a sandwich, it barely registering that there wasn’t anything for Spencer to eat when he came home. Grabbing another bottle you retreated to your spot on the sofa, remaining there until around 9pm. With no sign of your husband returning, you took yourself off to bed, crashing until the morning.

The next day you repeated your actions, finding the house empty again. You knew Spencer had been home, you’d poked your head into Henry’s bedroom, seeing the sheets in a different position to the day before. When you entered the kitchen, there were empty take out cartons on the counter. A piece of paper was taped across the two empty bottles you’d deposited on the counter top last night.

“The moving company are bringing our things today. Be sober enough to let them in. The front door opens on a yale lock.”

So you could open it from the inside but if you let it shut and you were on the other side of the door, you couldn’t get back in. If this wasn’t his parents house, you’d have thought he’d had that type of lock installed on purpose. Still, at least you could open it. Upon discovering that the back door was also the same sort of lock, you pulled back the dead bolts, jammed the door open with a chair and ventured outside. The garden would have once been beautiful but was now overgrown and unkept. Diana had had her hands full with other things. Locating the garbage bins, you disposed of the wine bottles and take out containers and went back inside, taking up your spot on the couch. After around an hour of yet another reality show marathon, you heard the tell tale sign of a large vehicle pulling up, and moments later a door bell you didn’t even know was there, sounded.

The movers made quick work of unloading box after box into the hallway and sitting room, stacking them against the walls. You felt bad, wanting to offer them a drink or something, but the milk was out of date as of this morning and you didn’t think they’d take kindly to being offered wine. You couldn’t even tip them, Spencer hadn’t left you any cash. After they left you sighed, surveying the mountains of boxes, not having the first clue what to do with them. Spotting a few labelled as your room, you carefully carried them up to the room you had been sleeping in, stashing them in a corner. You ignored the rest, not wanting to risk doing something to upset Spencer further. At least it was just boxes and not furniture, Spencer had sold the New York apartment fully furnished. Your stomach rumbled and you went in search of something to eat. You lucked upon a jar of honey, remembering that Spencer had once told you that it was the only first that never expired. It had crystallised slightly but that somehow made it tastier. Toasting some slightly stale but definitely not moldy bread, you sat and ate honey on toast.  Afterwards you wandered around downstairs, spotting a wooden cabinet in the dining room which upon opening its doors, rewarded you with a choice of rum, whisky, gin, vodka, some deep copper coloured liquid which had lost its label which you suspected to be brandy, and some tequila. You settled on the gin, not realising you had left the cabinet doors open. Scrawling “food?” on a piece of paper and taping it to the fridge, you took the gin to bed. You glugged down a good portion of the bottle, wincing at the taste before climbing into bed and falling into that altered reality of not quite being asleep but not quite being awake.

…

The next morning was different. When you peeled your eyes open there was a note taped to the inside of the bedroom door.

“I’ll bring food home later. Make yourself useful instead of draining my mother’s liquor cabinet and actually start unpacking. Oh, and this room reeks. Have you even showered recently?”

You sniffed the air, wrinkling up your nose when you realised he was right. But what was the point in showering when you had nowhere to go. And how were you meant to unpack when you didn’t have the first clue where anything was to go?

The doorbell sounding pulled you put of your wonderings and you make your way downstairs, peering through the peephole and seeing your neighbour, Emily. As much as you wanted to ignore her you didn’t feel able to. You pulled open the door, hoping she wouldn’t judge too much.

“Hey Y/N! So I catered for a party last night and made way too much food. I always used to bring the leftovers here for Diana so I thought maybe you’d appreciate them instead? I know how it is moving house and stuff.”

She held out a foiled covered tray and your stomach literally growled with delight.

“Can I come in for a sec?”

You moved to one side and let her in. She didn’t even try to hide her curiosity, her eyes raking over the boxes lining the halls.

“Lots to do eh?”

You nodded. “I don’t even really know where to begin either.”

“Well when Tara and I moved, we started with the bedrooms,” she offered, looking around still.

“I would but… Well the master bedroom is still full of medical equipment and stuff. I don’t know what to do with it.”

“Give Diana a call and ask her. She’ll probably arrange for it to be taken to a free clinic or somewhere where they can get some use out of it. She wouldn’t want things like that to be wasted but I can understand why she’s not been back to do it herself. Still, thought JJ might have come to give you a hand.”

“I would call her but I erm…. I don’t have her number,” you shuffled your feet awkwardly. “Or a phone. I broke mine a while ago and have made do without. And there doesn’t appear to be a landline.”

The truth was that you’d smashed it up yourself after your last interaction with Derek. And since then you just hadn’t bothered. It had suprised you how easily you’d come to live without it. There were days when you’d have spent hours online, watching shows or just clicking through articles on the internet. Now you spent hours staring at the ceiling.

“You don’t have a cell? Jesus Christ, I don’t know how I’d even live without mine,” Emily pulled out her phone and started scrolling through her contacts. “I’ll call Diana though.”

You started to protest, “Wait! It’s fine! You don’t have to,” but she already had the phone to her ear. You waited, listening to the one sided conversation.

“Hey Diana, how you doing?….. Yes thank you, yup….yup. Hahaha… You betcha I will….. Listen, I’m at the house with Y/N and the poor thing is surrounded by boxes with nowhere to put them…. Yeah…. Yeah… Yup, she mentioned the master bedroom too…. That’s what I thought. No, it’s cool, I’ll tell her…. No it’s fine! Don’t you worry…. I’ll talk to you soon. Bye!”

She disconnected the call and turned to face you. “She says that she’s very sorry she hasn’t been around to see you here yet or to help out, but to box any of her and William’s things up and make yourself at home. She said that if you bring all the medicine and equipment diwnstairs, she’ll arrange for JJ or Will to pick it up. Anything else you can stash in the attic, and that’s there’s some empty storage boxes in the closet in the smaller guest room. So basically, have at it.”

So now you had no real excuse to not begin. Emily stepped a little closer, her nose wrinkling up slightly.

“What’s that I can smell?”

Your cheeks flamed red. “I erm… It’s me, I think.” You thought quickly, seeing her eyes widen slightly. “I’ve not very well over the last few days so I’ve mainly been sleeping. I haven’t really had chance to clean up.”

“Oh! Is everything okay? I can call Tara and get her to call around this evening? It’s no bother.”

“No!” a little too loudly. “No, honestly Emily. It’s fine. It’s just migraines. I get them quite often.” So apparently even you were using Spencer’s lie.

She still looked a little concerned but dropped it. “Okay, well if you’re sure… I gotta be going anyway. I’ll pop back in the next few days, give you a hand with things. See ya soon!”

You didn’t get chance to protest, she was gone as quickly as she’d arrived.

You took a deep breath, ignoring the scent of yourself. You’d bathe later. Now, apparently you had a job to do.

…

You worked for hours, after devouring half of the tray of food Emily had bought over first. That woman sure could cook, and the little cupcakes that she’d included were to die for. After fueling up and locating the storage boxes, black garbage sacks, and a linen closet, you decided that you would attempt to do some thing nice for a change. It couldn’t be comfortable for a 6ft 1 man to be sleeping on a bed made for a child so you decided to try to make the master bedroom habitable. You threw the windows in the room wide open at first and then set about striping the bed, folding the pressure pads down as small as you could and stashing them in a box, and then stripping the bed. You completely emptied out two of the chests of drawers, folding up any clothes you found and bagging any dressings and creams separately. It was weird going through his parents drawers, not that you were when particularly looking at anything, just moving item from one place, to a storage container. You spent a good hour just on the closet alone, carefully folding expensive looking suits and wondering what Diana was going to do with William’s things. Perhaps she’d donate them to charity?

After taking a small breather, you started hauling box by box downstairs, grabbing one of the boxes labelled with Spencer on them, each time you returned upstairs. Your arms were going to ache terribly tomorrow but you actually felt like you were being useful and that sparked a tiny piece of happiness inside you. You located a vacuum and duster, giving the room a once over a removing the good few layers of dust that was clouding the air. Finally, you flipped the mattress and remade the bed, thinking that if Spencer didn’t want the room perhaps you could have it? Spotting a few more pill bottles that had slipped between the bed and the cabinets at its side, you picked them up and took them downstairs, placing them in front of the box of medication you put together. One was almost empty, it’s cap falling off as you settled it down.

By now, it was getting late and you felt achey and grimey. You grabbed a quick glass from the kitchen, filling it with the last inch or two of whisky from the liqueur cabinet and snagged another cupcake. You left the now empty bottle out on the table with the boxes from upstairs. You’d take it out to the trash tomorrow.

Searching out a fluffy towel and some bath salts from one of your own boxes, you drew yourself a hot bath, settling in and relaxing when it was ready.

The water pipes in the house were old, still clunking away as you closed the your eyes and inhaled the sweet smell of the bath salts, feeling the hot water soothing your aching body. Slowly you inched further and further under the water, until just your nose was peaking out from underneath the surface, allowing you to breathe as the water encased you. You barely heard the slamming of the front door downstairs, or Spencer calling out your name.

…

Spencer arrived home earlier than the last two nights, bringing two large bags of groceries in with him. You were right, you did need food. He was pleasantly surprised to see that some of the boxes that adorned the hallway yesterday had been moved, even more suprised when he passed the dining room to see boxes and boxes laid out on the table, him recognising them as things from his parents room.

He felt a surge of anger. How dare you start packing up that room? He was considering doing it himself, the bed in Henry’s room wasn’t suitable for an adult at all and he was spending hours tossing and turning each night. But that fact that you had taken it upon yourself to start removing things from that room? Without consulting him? No.

It was then he spied the empty bottle of whisky, sat directly next to an almost empty bottle of pills. A rush of panic coursed through his brain as he saw the label. Tramodol - 100 tablets. He called your name, once, twice and then three times, each one louder than the last. Realising he could hear the water pipes, he bounded up the stairs heading for the bathroom attached to your bedroom.

“Y/N! Oh god, Y/N! What have you done! Oh fuck!” He knew he’d been terrible to you recently, you’d been a terrible to each other really. But he’d just abandoned you in a new town, with no way of contacting anyone, or any way of leaving the house. He hadn’t thought you’d do this though, that you’d be so desperate for a way out of it all.

You hadn’t locked the bathroom door, not seeing any reason to. When Spencer flung it open he was greeted with the sight of his beautiful wife, her eyes closed and her body completely submerged under the water.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who left comments after the last chapter. I'm sorry I haven't replied to them all, I find it super hard to say thank you so much so many different times without it sounding like I don't mean it. But your comments genuinely do mean the world and are encouraging this story along.


	8. Chapter 8

A pair of hands roughly grasped your shoulders, yanking you upwards. The suprise made your mouth fall open causing you to inhale a mouthful of bathwater. As you coughed and spluttered you could just about make out Spencer yelling at you.

“What did you do Y/N? What did you do?”

When you didn’t respond, still struggling to catch your breath, he shook you harshly.

“The pills Y/N!? Why!?”

What? Having cleared the water from your throat, you tried to push his hands away, suddenly becoming aware that you were naked. Not that you hadn’t been naked in front of him before, just not for a while, a very long while. You crossed your arms over your chest, shaking the hair out of your eyes, extremely confused by what was going on.

“The pills Y/N? How many?” he was still yelling, his voice becoming coarse. You finally found your voice, your brain making sense of his words.

“What do you mean how many? I moved them all from upstairs? What did I did wrong?”

“How many did you take, tell me!?”

“I didn’t take any! I was sorting the house out like YOU told me to!”

Spencer’s eyes searched your face frantically, his fingers still gripping onto your shoulders. It finally clicked why he was yelling what he’d been yelling. The almost empty pill bottle, the empty liquor bottle. You lying under the surface of the water.

“Spencer…. I didn’t do what you think I did. That bottle was empty when I found it, and I had the last dregs of the whiskey before I came to get clean. You can let go of me. I might be fucking miserable here but I wasn’t going to…. I didn’t…”

“You didn’t take anything,” he stated, confirming what you had just told him. You shook your head and he took a deep breath, hesitating slightly and finally releasing your shoulders.

“Right. Okay then. Well… When you’ve finished in here, will you come downstairs please. I think we need to talk.”

He left you alone, not shutting the door completely behind him as he left. You were still in a slighty shocked daze. He had thought that you had….

Well, in the grand scheme of things if you had, it would make things a lot better. It’s not like anyone really wanted you here, and you weren’t contributing anything to the world. Maybe it would be better if you just took yourself out of the picture in the most permanent way that you could?

The look on his face though, the yelling. It was almost as if he still cared what happened to you. 

And if he did, what did that mean?

Was it simply that if you had have taken the pills, that it would have raised serious questions from his family about why?

Or did he still care? Because up until two minutes ago you hadn’t gotten that impression from him at all recently. 

There was perhaps only one way to find out. You quickly washed your hair and pulled yourself out of the tub. Time to go and actually talk to your husband.  

…

After you pulled on a clean pair of sweats and a hoody, you made your way downstairs finding Spencer sitting at the kitchen table, a glass of clear liquid in his hand. He winced as he took a sip, giving away that it wasn’t water. Spencer didn’t drink much and when he did, it definitely wasn’t spirits that he drank. He was a glass or two of wine at the most man. In the four years you’d been with him you’d only seen him drunk three times and it was generally when he was upset.

You hovered in the doorway, him finally sensing your presence and glancing up at you.

He cleared his throat, his eyes darting from you to the chair opposite him. Avoiding eye contact you sat down, pulling the sleeves of your hoody down over your hands and idly picking at the hem.

“I erm… I bought groceries.”

You nodded, spotting the paper bags on the counter.

“I didn’t really know what to get, what we needed.”

What you both needed, was to go back in time and make different decisions. But that wasn’t what he was talking about.

“We need everything. The freezer is frozen over, there’s nothing in the fridge or pantry. I only managed to eat today because Emily stopped by and bought me some food,” your voice was flat, you purposely trying to keep any emotion out of it.

“Yes, I’m sorry about that. I didn’t realise.”

Wow. Two apologise from him in the space of a week. It didn’t appease the anger of that suddenly bubbled up.

“You didn’t realise that you’d left me pretty much locked in a house, in a town where I know no one, with no way of contacting you or even knowing if you were coming home for three days in a row?”

To his credit he actually looked mildly ashamed before the Spencer you’d become accustomed to made a reappearance. “Well in New York you never seemed to notice whether I came home or not, why would it makes any difference here?”

He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose and you sighed.

“Can we just not this anymore?” you asked.

“Do what?”

“This!” you threw your hands up in the air, exasperated. “We can’t even have one conversation without us sniping at each other. I thought…. I thought when you barged into the bathroom earlier that maybe… maybe something had…. You know what? I don’t know what I thought.”

You looked around the room, blinking away the tears you’d kept stored inside for so long. You weren’t going to cry. Not in front of him. But you knew one thing. Him yanking you up from under the surface of the water had made you realise something. Like an awakening of sorts. You couldn’t go on like this anymore, it had gone on for far too long and it was crushing you internally. Physically, it might not kill you but emotionally, you were already most of the way there. You had to try to claw this back.

“I can’t do this. I can’t live like this anymore. We’re not in New York anymore, your family are here, how long do you think it’ll take for them to realise that something’s wrong with us? I just…. You bought me here. You could have left me in New York. But you chose to bring me here, and don’t you dare say that I had a choice because you know that I didn’t. If you don’t want me here then cut me loose. Divorce me. Send me on my way. But if you choose not to hand me those papers then things need to change. Both of us need to change.”

He was quiet for far too long and initially you were terrified that you were going to have a repeat of the other morning and he was going to explode. The terror subsided though as you realised that he couldn’t really do anything worse to you than what you’d been doing to yourself. When five full minutes had gone by you pushed your chair back and stood, making for the door.

“You’re right.”

You turned.

“You’re right. Things do need to change. We can’t go on like this but I won’t divorce you. I can’t, not now.”

Not right now, you wondered. Or not ever?

“Be ready tomorrow for ten am please. We’ll go into the city. You need a car, and a phone. And I’ll give you a set of keys.”

If only a set of keys actually meant freedom.


	9. Chapter 9

You lay in bed the next morning wondering what today would actually bring. Would Spencer actually do what he said? What did the conversation last night even really mean? He couldn’t divorce you but you were right, things needed to change?

Was he suddenly going to start acting as the ever loving husband he’d once been, or at least once pretended to be? Were you going to start playing the part of adoring wife you’d never been? Was this relationship suddently going to become the relationship you’d always wanted, the romantic fairytale love story you’d always written about when you could write?

No.

You knew that at least that much was true. It couldn’t be the love story you’d always wanted because Spencer Reid was not the man you’d always wanted. He was a substitute, and a poor one at that. And for him, you were the vision of something he’d had deep seated into his mind, the perfect woman for him. Neither of you were what the other wanted or even needed, but you had made your choices and endured four years of living (if you could even call it that) with those choices. Perhaps though, that if you both at least acknowledged that you were never going to be what the other desired, then you could muddle through and at least get something from this relationship. Maybe after the conversation last night, things WOULD change. People can change, people CAN suprise you.

Or not.

…

After a quick shower you dressed, looking around the room as you did so. If you were going to be staying here perhaps you should at least start to unpack your own things. You caught sight of yourself in the mirror and sighed slightly. You’d lost weight recently, perhaps more than was healthy but back in New York eating hadn’t become a priority, alcohol had. And here, well the last few days hadn’t exactly been a feast of delights, although you were secretly hoping that Emily would make another appearance with some more of her cooking. You quickly dug your make up bag out and dabbed concealer under your eyes and over a spot that was threatening to bloom on your chin, adding a quick swipe of eyeliner and mascara before you left the room and headed down to the kitchen.

Spencer was sat at the table, the grocery bags from last night put away. He glanced up at you, double taking, no doubt at the make up that had graced your face for the first time in months. He always used to tell you that you didn’t need it and the majority of time he was right. You’d been blessed with a decent enough complexion with dark lashes. But your lifestyle of recent had made you looked drained and gaunt, spots that you’d rarely suffered from in your teenage years, appearing and marking your face. Perhaps though, your effort this morning, not that it was a massive effort in the grand scheme of things, but perhaps it would show that you were serious about change.

“There’s fresh coffee in the pot if you want some,” your husband spoke, folding his newspaper into two. You squinted slightly, seeing it was yesterday’s date on it. Noting that his own cup was empty, you went to take it from him.

“Did you want another one?” it had been months since you’d done a simple act of making him a drink and he nodded in surprise. Your back turned from him as you fixed you both drinks, he spoke again.

“Thank you for cleaning the master bedroom out, I slept much better in there last night. And I spoke to my sister, I’ll drop all the old boxes that you’ve filled so far, off at their house later today.”

You nodded, turning back around and holding out his refilled cup. Your fingers brushed against his as he took it from you. The aspiring writer you had once been would have written about moments like these, sparks flying as fingers touched, electricity shooting through you both. It was amazing how easily you used to be able to write trite sentences like that, knowing they’d been used so many times before yet still somehow thinking it was something completely original to you. What would have been even more amazing is if you’d ever actually experienced moments like those with Spencer. You couldn’t remember ever feeling electricity or fire with him. Even the arguments you had with each other seemed to lack passion and interest, the morning of the funeral an exception to that rule. You settled down in the seat opposite him, wiping your hands on your jeans as if you were brushing away the brief touch of him.

“So,” you took a sip of your coffee.

“So.”

It was like normal conversation was just too hard for you both. Like neither of you knew what to say to each other anymore, but then again if you really asked yourself, was there ever a time where you knew what to say to each other? Sure, Spencer had once whispered sweet nothings to you, telling you how you were his world, his beautiful wife, whom he would treasure and cherish but they were all sentences one could easily find on a greeting card. They’d been words that you’d needed to hear at one stage in your life but not from him in particular, just….well from anyone really. And in the three years after the wedding you’d both kept up the perfectly created dialogue one would expect from a couple going through the things you had been going through. “We’ll get through this,”,“We have options,”, “Everything will be okay, we have each other, that’s what matters,” but actual conversation? No. You closed your eyes briefly, trying to imagine how you’d react if you were a character in one of your old stories. What would a struggling husband and wife say to each other? What needed to be said right now?

Blanks. 

Nothing.

“Well, erm, you mentioned a car?” you tried, trying not to sound too optimistic. “So I could get about whilst you’re out doing….well, whatever you’ve been doing these last few days. Where have you been by the way?”

He looked suprised, maybe at your apparent interest or just because he realised that you hadn’t actually known where he had been. At least in New York you knew he’d be at the college, you’d have been able to reach him if you’d ever needed or wanted to.

“I was with my mother and sister for a while and then yesterday I was setting up my new office on the campus. And yes, I did mention a car. So we should really leave soon to go looking. Do you have any idea what sort you’d like?”

“Office?”

“Yes, at the university in the city. My father was friend’s with the dean there, he was at the funeral actually. Once he found out I was intending to stay in town he was only too happy to offer me a position. Apparently their English professor had to leave at the end of last term on short notice. I start there Monday but I still have quite a lot of work there to do with his lessons plans.”

Today was Friday. It amazed you how quickly Spencer was able to find work, it had been the same when you moved to New York. Positions suddenly available to him. Both his own and his father’s name in the literary world seemed to have an awful lot of pull still, despite neither of the pair releasing any new novels in the last four years, mainly contributing essays or articles for papers.

“Oh. Right.” You couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“Well one of us needs to be earning a living, Y/N.”

Your eyes snapped to his and you were about to bite back with a remark about not being able to finish your degree because of him when he sighed.

“I didn’t mean that how it sounded. But maybe…. Maybe it would do you good to have something to do.”

He could be right. Something to take your mind off everything and nothing all at the same time. But you had no qualifications and only your brief stint as a waitress as work experience. And although you’d enjoyed redecorating the New York apartment and you’d been good at it, you couldn’t exactly set up an interior design business based on that.

“Maybe you could write again? Try some freelance pieces and submit them to some online papers?”

You shook your head furiously, writing was not an option. You’d tried, after the wedding and again a few times in the years in between. Nothing would come, no inspiration, none of the glorious scenes you’d once been able to conjure up. Nothing. It was like having your heart broken had ripped your ability to write away from you.

“It was just a thought Y/N. You know how good I thought you were, you could have easily been published….” he must have seen your jaw clench as he changed the subject. “So, cars. Shall we head out?”

You nodded, pleased at the change of subject.

Over the next few hours you spent more time in closer proximity to your husband than you had done in the last six months at least. It transpired that he had purchased a vehicle online the day he told you to pack up, Jennifer taking him to pick it up the first day after the funeral, the first day you’d been locked inside. It was a top of the range model, no expense spared which suprised you somewhat. Spencer WAS well off, his novels making him quite the pretty penny as well as having come from two parents who both had high incomes. But he didn’t normally flash it around so obviously. But then again in New York neither of you had needed cars, not seeing the point in it.

He drove you through the long country roads until you reached the town he had grown up in, and for the first time since you’d arrived you actually paid attention to yourself surroundings. The town had everything one might need to exist, a large grocery store, a department store, Greenaway’s, in the central shopping precinct. There was a tech shop, you spying cell phones and laptop’s in the windows, as well as a few banks, cafes and the other amenities you’d expect to see. You spotted signs for the local elementary school, police station, and a clinic. You didn’t think it would be be too hard to find your way around really. Spencer kept driving just outside of the town until he reached a car dealership where you spent the next hour looking around.

“Y/N, you can have any car you want. What about this one?” Spencer seemed to be growing exasperated with you, you didn’t seem able to make a decision. Every car just seemed so expensive and whilst it hadn’t exactly bothered you in the past when it came to spending your husband’s money, it now did. It seemed that it the space of 24 hours the space within your head had rearranged itself. You wanted your relationship with Spencer to change because you simply couldn’t go on living the way you had been for the last…. well really the last four years.

Sure, things had been worse more recently but they’d never really been great. They’d just simply been okay. And okay wasn’t anything to yell from the rooftops about but it was never bad enough to make you consider leaving. Okay had been a means to an end because you felt like you didn’t have any choices at the time, and you’d simply stagnated for the first few years, dealing with what life threw at you both in the best ways you knew how. But now, with everything that had happened, and with Spencer apparently refusing to divorce you for whatever reasons he had, there had to be a turning point. And that turning point had to be you.

“Do you have any used cars?” you asked the salesman, ignoring the frown your husband gave you.

“Yes we do actually. They’ve all been fully reconditioned though and are in perfect working order. If you’d like to comes this way….”

He led you around the back of the dealership and you let out a sigh of relief. The cars here were much more reasonably priced which made you realise that it was the money that bothered you. Because you realised that yet again, you were taking things from him just like you had done for the last four years. You’d taken without giving anything except your name as his wife back, because you hadn’t wanted to give anything back. Because you hadn’t wanted him. And ultimately, you still didn’t, or at least you didn’t think you did. But circumstances had put you here and although you did want to change those circumstances, it had to be slowly.

The issue was, you needed to continue to take things from him to be able to exist. To get back some semblance of you. You couldn’t exist without him right now, even though you didn’t particularly want to exist with him.

You pointed at the blue Ford Fiesta that was in front of you. The price didn’t make you feel like you’d owe Spencer too much and it was a decent enough looking car.

“That one. I want that one.”


	10. Chapter 10

Another hour later and Spencer had filled out the paperwork for your new old car, it now belonged to you.

Well. Actually no, it didn’t. It was in Spencer’s name with you as the named driver, just like everything in your life was in Spencer’s name. Part of you was grateful, it really was. The other part of you resented it. As he filled out his banking information you thought back, how long had it been since you’d actually bought something with money that you had earned? It had to have been before you were married because once you had moved, leaving your job, your small leased college apartment, your education, behind, you hadn’t had any money to call your own. Spencer had told you that he would take care of you and you’d just let him. Even when you were sneaking to hotel rooms, it was on ubers on his account, wearing lingerie paid for on his credit card.

How much of a shitty person did that make you?

You made a decision. You would get the house in to order and then you WOULD look for a job. You’d start at the bottom somewhere, but you wouldn’t tell him of your intentions. It would be a surprise of sorts, after all he had been the one to mention it this morning. Maybe it would even give you both something to talk about if you were actually away from the house and doing something with your day. The important thing was, that you’d have your own money and in your mind, that was suddenly so very important to you.

The car was bought along to the front of the lot, the mechanic who had given it a service sliding out of seat and handing you the keys with a grin.

“Enjoy her, she’s a great little runner,” he said cheerily as he went back around to the rear of the building. It felt strange to have car keys in your hand. You hadn’t driven anywhere in years, never even owning your own car. You looked over to Spencer, suddenly feeling slightly panicked. It obviously didn’t show on your face though, or if it did he didn’t particularly care.

“I have to go into the office again, can you find your own way home? The car has gps so I can give you the zip code for the house.”

You thought… well , you thought he’d at least come with you for your first drive. He must know how long it had been since you’d been behind the wheel of a car? And plus, wasn’t he meant to be taking you to get a cell phone? What if something happened to you whilst driving?

“Oh. Erm…. Yeah okay. I need keys though, for the house? And… when will you be back? I still have no way of getting hold of you remember.”

He looked uncomfortable and awkward. Perhaps the amount of time spent in your presence was starting to bother him. He reached into his coat pockets and pulled out a bunch of keys, detaching two and handing them over.

“Keep these two, one for the front and one for the back. Do you have the secondary credit card with you?”

You shook your head. That was in the bag you normally used for grocery (alcohol) shopping back in New York. It was packed away still somewhere. Spencer reached into his wallet, pulling out a wad of notes and reeling some off. Your eyes widened at the amount of cash he was carrying.

“Take this,” he shoved some notes into your hand. “The route home will take you back through town. There’s a store there you’ll be able get a phone from.” He pulled out a business card and frowned slightly. “When you get a number, message me. I shouldn’t be home too late tonight.”

He really was going to send you off by yourself. You chewed your lip nervously and Spencer caught it.

“Y/N you’ll be fine. The roads here aren’t hard to follow and this sort of car is easy to drive. I really do have things to do and you’ll get bored and frustrated if I take you with me. Go buy a phone, find your way around. I’ll pick up take out on my way back. Perhaps tomorrow you can clean out the kitchen and go and get some proper food in? Would that be okay?”

Reluctantly you nodded. Because you weren’t going to tell him no. You weren’t going to beg him to come with you, because you had never begged him for anything and you weren’t about to start now. You climbed into the seat and let Spencer talk you through inputting the coordinates into the GPS, then you adjusted your seat and mirrors, took a deep breath and switched the engine on. Hooking up your seat belt, you quickly familiarised yourself with the controls.

“You’ll be fine Y/N,” Spencer closed the door he had opened to help with the GPS and you repeated his words.

“I’ll be fine.”

After a few loud revs, you found your biting point, released the hand break and tentatively drove away from the dealership. You didn’t check back to see how long it took for Spencer to climb back into his own car. If you had have done, perhaps you’d have been suprised as he waited and watched you drive away, a slight look of regret clouding his face until he remembered that he really did have other things he needed to be doing. He HAD considered taking you along with him and spending the entire day together but he wasn’t certain either one of you were ready for that yet. Not after being so indifferent to each other for so very long. Small steps, he told himself, repeating to himself again that you would be fine.

You were fine for the most part. You navigated the roads back into town finding the car relatively easy to drive. It was still nerve racking for you and you made sure you kept to the speed limit, constantly checking your mirrors. You’d never had a car before, never needed one or had enough money to buy one for yourself. You took drivers ed in high school and Aunt Lorel would let you use her car when she wasn’t but that was really it. Derek had owned a car, you spending many nights steaming up the windows, you were rarely allowed to drive it though, unless you’d both been drinking and you were the more sober of the two of you. Spencer had had a car when you first got together, but after the wedding and the accident, he hadn’t bothered to replace it. And in New York it wasn’t like you needed a car.

Driving back through town you spotted the tech store, seeing signs for a parking lot. You pulled into a space and turned the engine off, letting out a sigh of relief as you did. It was only then that you realised how tightly you’d been griping the steering wheel, flexing your fingers and wiping your sweaty palms on your jeans. Remembering the cash Spencer had given you, you grabbed it and counted it. He’d given you five hundred dollars in fifty dollar notes. Tucking it onto your purse you exited the car and locked up, heading over to the store.

There was just the one employee that you could see, serving a teenaged boy as you entered. She looked over at you and grinned welcomly before going back to serving. You wandered around the shop slightly aimlessly, picking up handset after handset and putting them all back down, having no idea what you even wanted. A chime sounded and a moment later you felt a presence at your side.

“Hi! I’m Penelope, is there anything I can help you find?” the blonde employee was standing right by your side, almost too close for comfort. You stepped back slightly, feeling perkiness rolling off her in waves.

“I don’t know really? I smashed my phone up a while ago and was looking for a replacement.”

“Okay well, I can pretty much find you anything you want. And if I don’t have it in stock then I can source it for you! Are you new in town or just passing through? I haven’t seen you around.”

Christ, this woman was so cheerful. And not just your usual paid employee faux happiness, it actually seemed like she really wanted to help you. She was staring, waiting expectantly.

“Oh erm, I’m new here. My husband grew up here and his dad recently passed away, so we’ve moved back.” Why you felt the need to tell her that you didn’t know but you were fairly certain this woman could ask for your bra size and you’d tell her, there was just something about her.

“You’re Spencer Reid’s wife?” her eye’s lit up with recognition and you got the distinct feeling that everyone in this town would known who you were if you mentioned you’d moved back because of a family death. You nodded.

“Oh it’s so lovely to meet you! I don’t really know Spencer or his sister that well, they were a few years ahead of me in high school. But the family is well known around here and I know Jennifer’s husband, Will, relatively well. I sometimes do some work for the police department. Oh and I’ve met Diana a few years times, she used to come in whenever she had a problem with her computer. She was super nice. How is she coping?”

As lovely as this woman was, you could tell that you were going to leave her presence exhausted. But something about what she’d said struck you. “Diana seems to be doing okay. I actually haven’t seen her since the funeral. Spencer has been busy and I only got a car today. Erm…what work do you do for Will?” Maybe it was paperwork that you could help out with? You could type relatively quickly after all.

Her eyes gleamed at your interest. “I can’t say too much really but let’s just say that I’m super good at finding people, so occasionally he’ll turn up if someone has gone off the grid. And sometimes their systems go down, usually cos someone’s spilt coffee over one of the computers.”

Oh. So nothing you could help with then. You shuffled your feet sightly awkwardly, unsure how to move the conversation along. You didn’t have to worry, she seemed to sense it and moved it along for you.

“So, phones?”

“Oh, yes.” You sifted through your bag, pulling out your smashed up cell that you still had. “I really just want something like this?”

She eyed it up, wrinkling her nose. “Well that model is a few years old but I’m fairly certain I still have some in the back. Would you not want one of the newer releases?”

You really didn’t care how old the phone was. You’d got by long enough without one so all you really wanted was a way to be able to contact someone if anything went wrong. “If you have the same model that would be great.”

“Okay. I can do that. Give me two seconds… Oh! Did you need a new number or are you keeping the same sim card?”

Technically there was nothing wrong with the sim card you had and you were fairly certain that Spencer hadn’t cancelled the plan on it which still had a few months left to run. But did you want to risk seeing any messages from Derek, if there even were any? You weren’t sure which was worse; no messages or or a slew of them. You decided you didn’t want to find out. You told Penelope that you’d need a new sim, on a different cell provider to what you’d been on. She disappeared into the back, returning a few moments later with a box in hand.

Twenty minutes later and you were all set up, Penelope having gone the extra mile and charging the phone a little whilst she was setting up the plan for you. When she rung the purchase through the register it came to just under half the cash Spencer had given you. You handed it over and left the store feeling accomplished. You had driven here yourself and purchased a new phone, this was the start of new things. You walked back to your new car, your happiness sinking when you reached it.

When you’d parked, the spaces on each side of you had been empty. Now there were two cars there, both parked ridiculously close. You could get into the car but the angle you’d have to reverse out at was extremely awkward and you weren’t sure you were cut out for it.

After ten minutes of reversing and trying to turn out of the space, you were ready to cry. There was a row of cars behind you with the space between the rows large enough to drive through and to pull out into if you had the room to turn but you didn’t. You pulled back into the space ready to turn off the engine and just wait for the other car owners to return when you heard a light tapping on the back window. You looked behind to see a vaguely familiar face. Carefully, you slid back out of the car.

“You need some help? I’m parked in the row behind and can see you struggling. Those jackasses have parked way too close… Hey, do I know you?”

You realised he was Henry’s teacher and you racked your brains trying to think of the name Will had given you.

“I would love some help. I haven’t driven in a really long time and I just…. I’m ready to give up already. We’ve not actually met but you were at William Reid’s funeral the other day.”

The man smacked his palm to his forehead. “Yes that’s it! You’re Henry’s aunt right? I’m Luke, or Mr Alvez as Henry probably calls me. It’s nice to meet you properly.”

He held his hand out and you shook it, feeling how warm and soft it was. “I’m Y/N, and yes, I’m Henry’s aunt. We moved back into town recently.”

“Yeah I remember Henry’s mom saying. Well I hope you’re liking our town so far.”

You simultaneously shrugged and nodded, suddenly feeling extremely awkward.

“Well, you wanna hop back in and I’ll guide you out? Or I can drive it out if you keep an eye for me? It’s insane how terribly some people park.”

You really didn’t want to try again, just wanting to get home. “Would you mind driving it out for me? It really has been a while and I feel like my nerves are shot to pieces. Today’s the first time I’ve driven since high school.”

Luke looked surprised, his eyebrows shooting up his face. “And you’re driving alone? That’s brave.”

You shrugged again. “Spencer had things to do…. Apparently.” You cursed yourself for saying that last word, knowing exactly how it sounded.

“Well if you were my wife I would have …. Actually… Forget I started that sentence, let’s just get you back on the road.”

You were sure that if you were most people’s wife then you wouldn’t be driving alone for the first time in year’s but you didn’t say anything, simply moving aside.

“Just bang on the trunk if I’m close to hitting something okay. I think anyone would struggle out of this spot.” Luke squeezed into the driver’s seat and switched the engine back on and a few minutes later he was out. He hopped back out and grinned. “For a second there I didn’t think we’d get there but we did. You’re free to go!”.

You smiled back brightly, feeling a headache building behind your eyes. “Thank you so much. I think I would have been stuck here until they moved otherwise.”

“It’s no problem, happy to help. Now, it’s probably going to look like I’m following you but I actually live further outside of town than you do so if you look in your mirror and see me there, I’m not stalking you I promise.”

You were beginning to wonder how he even knew where you lived when you remember that Will had said that William had mentored Luke.

“Well just don’t honk when I’m driving bellow the speed limit. I feel like I’m driving like an eighty year old currently.”

He laughed, a deep gutteral laugh that sounded so warm and lovely to your ears. “I won’t honk, I’ll just curse you under my breath instead. You’ll be fine though, my cousin Penelope has one of these cars and she loves it. She’s a horrendous driver but she’s so far managed to navigate the roads and not harm anything. If she can do it then I have absolute faith that you can. You seem much more sensible than she is.”

You wondered if it was the same Penelope you’d just had the pleasure of meeting but decided not to ask. “Well thanks again Mr Alvez.”

“Luke, please. Only the six year olds that I teach call me Mr Alvez.”

You chuckled and thanked him for one more, using his first name this time. Climbing back into the seat you followed the instructions on the GPS, looking back every few minutes and seeing that Luke was indeed behind you. As you pulled into the driveway, he continued on past you, giving a quick wave as he did. You waved back feeling another smile spreading across your face.

Unlocking the front door you entered the Reid’s house, feeling slightly less like a prisoner now that you had a key and a way of getting around. The events in the car park really had given you a headache though, so you quickly set the phone to charge and texted Spencer your new number. Then you hunted down some advil and took to the couch, closing your eyes.


	11. Chapter 11

“Oh.”

You blinked your eyes open to see your husband standing next to the couch. Shit, how long you’d been asleep for?

“I thought you would have at least got some more unpacking done this afternoon.”

Cricking your next and stretching out you legs, you felt annoyed. You could detect irritation in his voice and it grated on you.

“Well this afternoon was very stressful, I had a headache so I took a nap.”

“Stressful? Y/N you went phone shopping, I’d hardly call that stressful.”

Was every conversation going to be like this? You took a deep breath and told yourself to stay calm.

“No that wasn’t. But driving for the first time in years was as was getting stuck in the car park because two assholes can’t park. Even Luke struggled to get out.”

Spencer’s eyes narrowed and you saw something flash in them. “Luke?” His tone was the same but you recognised the clench of the jaw and sudden tension in his shoulders.

“Luke… Mr Alvez, Henry’s teacher. He was at your father’s funeral Spencer. He saw me struggling and helped me out of a tight spot. I’d have still been stuck there now otherwise.”

His shoulders relaxed and his jaw unclenched. “You could have called me, I would have come and helped.”

“No I couldn’t, the phone was barely charged and I had no idea how far away you were. Luke was there and he helped me out. I’m very thankful to him. But it all gave me a migraine, so I took a few painkillers and fell asleep. I’ll do some more unpacking tomorrow alright. Now,” you inhaled a deeply and pushed your hair back, reminding you yourself that you were trying here. “How was work, did you get everything done?”

Spencer looked suprised but whatever animosity was in his stare dropped. “Erm, I got a lot more done but I’ll probably have to go in over the weekend. I’ll need to sort my father’s study out at some point so I can use that when I’m home.”

“I can do it for you? Just tell me what needs to be done,” you offered.

“That would be…. helpful. Thank you.”

Your stomach rumbled and you looked at your husband hopefully. “Did you bring food?”

“Oh! Yes, it’s in the kitchen. I picked up a bottle of that red wine I know you like as well. Shall we go through to the kitchen and eat?”

You didn’t particularly like red wine, Spencer did. You were a white wine girl unless you had no option. But as you followed him through to the kitchen you could see it was the bottle that you found the least offensive so perhaps that counted towards something?

Maybe.

…

You ate dinner together in uncomfortable silence, wincing each time you took a sip of the red wine but refilling your glass all the same. You attempted to make conversation with Spencer, telling him about the tech shop girl Penelope, and asking him about his new position. He answered your questions, all the time watching your wine glass, not that you noticed. When you went for the second bottle he’d bought, having not even cleared your plate yet, he put his cutlery down.

“Is spending time with me that bad that you really need to get wasted?” he asked.

You weren’t drunk, only slightly tipsy. But his words sobered you somewhat.

“I’m not getting wasted,” you replied, still refilling your glass and then placing down the bottle. “You’ve been drinking too.”

“I’ve had maybe a glass and a half at most,” he pointed out and you realised that he was right. “Why do you drink so much?”

You stared at your husband, torn between denying his statement and agreeing with him. Because you did drink far too much. It didn’t used to be this way. Yes you were drunk the first time you and he…. but then you hadn’t been able to drink for a few months. And even after that you’d hadn’t felt like you needed to, decorating the apartment and then dealing with Spencer’s treatment taking up your time. You could cope back then, even if you weren’t particularly happy you didn’t feel like you needed to drink. It was only after Derek came back onto the scene that you started. And you just hadn’t really stopped.

“Y/N?” You hadn’t answered him and he was waiting. “I’m not trying to be cruel, I’m concerned.”

“It just…. It helps me relax, it helps me sleep.” You weren’t going to be truthful. You weren’t going to tell him that it was because it numbed the reality of your situation. That you were stuck in a marriage that was falling apart, that the person who you thought had come back for you, had just used you for his own needs. That, out of spite for both men you had ended a pregnancy because you couldn’t stand someone wanting something that was inside your tummy but not you yourself, and that you didn’t want your husband raising a child that wasn’t biologically his and lording it over your head forever. You weren’t going to tell him that you actually hated the fact that you drank so much because it reminded you of your father, but that it had become so a part of your daily routine that it was honestly just habit by now.

You weren’t going to tell him that you wanted to stop, to slow it down, because then he would take from that that he was right and you were wrong.

“If you’re having trouble sleeping Y/N, perhaps make an appointment to get some pills.”

“Maybe I will. Now, do you wanna tell me what needs sorting out in the study?”

Your change of subject didn’t go unnoticed but he let it go, giving you a list of things to do but also telling you that it was no major hurry. After eating you made your excuses and took yourself back up off to bed, Spencer calling your name before you left the kitchen.

“Y/N, we’re invited to dinner tomorrow evening at my sisters. I do need to go out during the day but I’ll be home for around 4pm to get showered and ready. My mother’s looking forward to seeing you again and so is Henry.”

Although it was an invitation you were very much under the impression that you couldn’t refuse which was strange considering how much he’d apparently tried to keep you away from his family.

“Well I look forward to seeing them too.”

…

You awoke much earlier the next day, hearing the front door shutting as Spencer left. You hauled yourself out of bed and moved to the window, watching him leave through the window pane. You didn’t have a headache despite the one and a half bottles of wine you must have consumed, which told you one thing: you drank so often your body had become used to it. Or at least that was the way it seemed.

That was the way it had seemed with your father too. After your mother abandoned you both he turned to drink, even your seven year self recognising that the bottles that cluttered up the garbage were far too many. The father that had once played with you joyfully in the evenings when he returned from work, now slumping in front of the TV with a bottle of Jack Daniels in his hand, not even bothering with a glass. You didn’t remember much about before your mother left but you remember your father being happy to sit and play dolls with you and then after she left, you had to play by yourself. Amazingly, he could still function in the morning, tossing back the coffee like it was his lifeline before heading to work, his blood alcohol level far too high for him to be able to legally drive. When you thought back you were now suprised that he hadn’t gotten into an accident and killed both himself and someone else. Instead it was the cirrhosis that killed him, and rather quickly too. He literally dank himself to death, preferring the numb reality that large amounts of alcohol gave him to actual life.

Like father like daughter?

No. You didn’t want that did you? You remembered the quick decline in your father’s health, your Aunt Lorel collecting you from school when your father collapsed in his office. From then it was a matter of months, his skin turning a sickly shade of yellow, his limbs shaking in the hospital bed, him asking Lorel to sneak him in a bottle everytime she took you to see him.

As Spencer drove away, not noticing you watching him, you thought back to your conversation two nights ago.

Things needed to change. Both of you needed to change.

You would stop drinking. Or at least you would stop drinking as much.

Deciding to get a head start on the day now that you were up, you starting moving a few more things around in the room that had become yours. Even if things did change between you and Spencer you didn’t see you going back to sharing a bedroom with him anytime soon, so you unpacked a few suitcases of your clothes, hanging things up in the closet and folding things away in the drawers.

Afterwards you made your way downstairs, still clad in your nightwear and started moving labelled boxes into William’s… well you guessed it was Spencer’s now, study. You didn’t want to do too much in here and Spencer’s instructions had simply been to move his boxes into there and to pack up any papers in his father’s desk, he and his sister would sort through them at a later stage. So that’s what you did, hauling through box after box and wondering how on earth he had so much stuff. You peaked inside one box seeing it was full of notebooks, pages full of ideas and dialogue for stories. You spotted a few with your own writing on them, leftover from the days where you could imagine world’s and characters and could bring them to life with words. He had a lot of your old essays and submitted stories too, a manuscript you had written at aged seventeen which had won you the scholarship. You moved these items to one side, intending to take them to your own from, for what, you weren’t sure. Stealing a glance into another three boxes you saw they were full of letters, fanmail you realised, because fans of writers actually still sent handwritten letters. At the top of one box sat a shoebox, some how different from the rest as the other letters were just piled into the boxed haphazardly, but when you ventured further and looked inside, you again saw that it was just letters. Did Spencer really need to keep all of these? Or could they at least be filed better; perhaps sorted out into folders rather than rammed into boxes. You made a mental note to ask him just as the doorbell sounded.

You made your way to the door, peering through the glass and seeing it was Emily. You opened it to her.

“Hey Y/N!” she smiled warmly and then took in your nightclothes, a concerned look clouding her features. “Still not feeling well?”

“I’ve been unpacking actually. Haven’t had chance to get dressed… Haven’t had chance to even eat or drink actually. Do you wanna come in?” You held the door open and your nearest neighbour stepped inside, looking over the hallway and seeing that there were less boxes.

“So you have. Getting settled in then?”

You nodded.

“So um, I ran into Diana this morning when I was running some errands in town and I mentioned I was heading over to the Target in the city this afternoon. She suggested that you might wanna come? Apparently Spencer told her that he hadn’t really had chance to go grocery shopping yet. Would you like to come? I know it’s not the most exciting of adventures but we could chat some more, get to know each other?”

Something told you that while you were living in this town, you were going to be forced to be social whether you liked it or not.

“That would actually be really great Emily, although I haven’t even had chance to sort the kitchen out yet. The freezer is still frozen over and I need to toss all the expired food out and make a list of what we need. But at least if I come with you I can find out where the Target is. Thank you for offering. Would you mind terribly if I jumped in the shower first though? I’ll be as quick as I can?”

Your raven haired neighbour…. new friend? nodded. “That’s fine, I can wait. And I’ll tell you what, I’ll take a gander around the kitchen whilst you’re getting ready and see what you need if you want? Even if you can’t get everything we can still get you kitted out with the basics.”

You grinned at her and told her that would be great, your face unaccustomed to smiling at people as often as you had these last few days. You bounded up the stairs and quickly showered and got dressed, shooting a quick message off to Spencer to let him know where you were going, should he come home earlier. You grabbed the credit card for his account too, quickly remembering the money he had given you yesterday.

You still had around half of it left and was torn between handing it back over, using it for groceries or just keeping it. Whilst it wasn’t your own money, he had given it to you and hadn’t asked how much the cell had cost you. You decided to keep it, stashing it in your makeup bag.

Maybe you’d ask Emily about waitressing jobs too so that you could add to it, so that you could have your own money.

A voice in the back of your head told you that if you had your own money, then maybe one day you could leave if things didn’t improve. And although you’d both said that things needed to change, were you really expecting them to?

In the short term, maybe.

In the long term term though?

That same voice wondered if you’d ever actually have the courage to walk out into the unknown, alone, without any support or anyone to fall back on.

Maybe though, if things didn’t improve it would be better to be alone.

You paid little attention to that voice as you quickly applied make up. Because if you did, you’d have realised that you were already setting things in place to leave. Because you knew what was surely inevitable of your situation.


	12. Chapter 12

Emily drove which made perfect sense as she had the larger car and also knew the way. She chatted as she navigated the roads, disrupting you from gazing out of the windows at the scenery.

“So I had a look in your pantry and you pretty much need everything. Diana has kinda lived on take out and anything I would  bring over for her during this last year, which given the circumstances is completely understandable.” You agreed and nodded as Emily continued. “I’d say your safest bet is to literally start from scratch and get all of your pantry staples today as well as some stuff to stock the fridge. Defrost the freezer overnight ready to throw out for the trash collection and we can go fill the freezer during the week. But we can get you plenty of fresh stuff today that’ll last awhile, at least then you’ll be able to cook.”

You wrinkled your nose up slightly and she clocked it.

“Not a big cook then?”

You shook your head. “I never really learned how to. I can put stuff in the oven to heat it up but… Cooking from scratch? I’d probably poison us.”

“What about Spencer, does he cook?”

“Not really.” You’d always got the impression from him that he was disappointed in your inability to piece together a meal from scratch, relying mainly on takeout or if you weren’t hungry, leaving him to own devices. Perhaps this could be something else you could change. You went out on a sudden limb. “I think I’d like to learn though.”

“Cooking is a invaluable skill. I can lend you easy to follow recipe books if you’d like. There’s a great number of websites too, I could send you… actually no I couldn’t because you’re stuck in the dark ages and don’t have a phone.”

You laughed at her comment and pulled your cell out of from your bag, waving it at her. “Hey, I was only stuck in the dark ages momentarily. I saw the light yesterday and now have a phone. And a new car actually.”

“Someone’s breaking the bank, a new phone AND a new car in one day?” she joked.

“Well it was Spencer who paid, not that I could if I even wanted to.”

“I take it you don’t work then?” Emily asked, her voice steady and unjudgemental.

“It’s a long story,” you sighed. She reached over and patted your knee lightly.

“Perhaps one that you’ll tell me sometime.”

…

Emily led you around the store, you slightly in awe at how big it was. Sure in New York you had huge department stores but the atmosphere in them was always different. Like everyone was in a hurry and that no one wanted to stop and talk. This target was bigger than the ones you’d been in when you were younger but yet it felt friendly, Emily receiving many nods and hellos as you both pushed your shopping carts through the aisles, Emily instructing you what to buy as she idly chatted at you. You dawdled in the stationary section, seeing some fancy looking binders with their spines designed to look like old books. Having a surge of inspiration you tossed a few into the cart, throwing in some sheet protectors as well. As you rounded the corner of the aisle to catch up with Emily, you crashed your cart into a solid mass of person, you letting out a curse.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you muttered, reversing yourself and repositioning the cart.

“Y/N?”

You looked up to see yesterday’s saviour with a light smirk on his face.

“Mr Alvez… I mean Luke! Hi! Sorry about that….”

“Hey it’s cool, it’s cool. It’s not you hit me with your car or anything, I’ll live. Did you drive here? I’m not going to have to rescue you again from the parking lot am I?” he teased you and for the first time in years you felt your cheeks burn.

“No I’m here with my neighbour… Emily?”

As if summoned by magic she reappeared, searching for you.

“There you are! I thought I’d lost you forever to the stationary stores. Oh hey Luke, have you two met properly?” she looked between you both, waiting.

“Yeah we have,” you told her. “Luke rescued me yesterday on my first solo drive in years.”

“And she repays me by ramming her shopping cart into my stomach,” he grinned.

Emily nudged him playfully. “Oh shut it now Alvez, those abs of yours can take it I’m sure.”

“Well I think I’ll survive. Anyway, nice seeing you again Y/N. I’m off to pillage the stationary section now, gotta restock before school starts tomorrow.” Giving you another huge grin, he wheeled his own cart away.

“So he rescued you yesterday?” Emily asked curiously.

“I got stuck in a parking space near the tech store in town,” you explained.

“And Luke was your knight in shining armour. Well, there are worse knights to have in this town. He’s a good guy and his cousin Penelope is a right sweetheart.”

“The tech shop girl?” you asked, remembering your curiosity from yesterday.

“That’s her. Now come on, we still have plenty more to get.”

…

You followed Emily around the store for a while longer before checking out, handing over Spencer’s credit card, cringing slightly at spending his money again. Well, it wasn’t as if he wasn’t going to eat the food, you told yourself. As you were both loading your carts back up, you locked eyes with Luke again, him paying four checkouts away. He smiled and gave you a wave, both you and Emily returning it.

As Emily drove you home she chatted to you, surprising you with her words. “You know, you’re not what I expected.”

You frowned slightly, “How so?”

“I don’t mean any offence by it Y/N. Just…. I don’t know Spencer that well and I obviously can’t comment too much because it’s not like I’ve even really seen you together aside from at the funeral but, you’re not who I expected him to be with. Tara teases me sometimes, I read far too many psychology books in high school and she thinks I try to…. what’s that word they use in those dumb ass crime shows?” she thought for a moment before it coming to her. “Profile?…Yes, profile people. She’s the one with all the doctorates, she actually started in psychology before moving to family medicine but she says I see people clearer than she does. I think it’s just because I like watching people and picking up on their interactions. Doing the sort of job I do, I’m often blending onto the background of people’s kitchens when I’m working events. It’s amazing the interactions you see, how people behave when they don’t realise people are watching.”

You were curious but scared to ask her. Still, you took a deep breath and did it anyway. “What do you see when you look at me then?”

She hesitated slightly, chewing her lip before answering. “Someone who isn’t where she’s meant to be.”

Oh.

Oh how right she was and she didn’t even know it.

“I’ve not offended you have I?” she was suddenly concerned.

“No, not at all. This isn’t where I pictured myself either.”

She didn’t question you and you didn’t elaborate, a silence falling over you both for the last part of the journey home. When you arrived home, she helped you inside with your bags, before making you give her your number.

“I’ll send you some easy to follow recipes. And don’t forget to call the local authority about the trash collection.”

Whilst out she’d told you about the garbage collection dates and extra charges. Given the amount of food you needed to throw out combined with the other things you’d sorted out, she told you to call them in advance and for a small charge they’d take it all away. Otherwise they’d only take what was in the garbage bin and leave the rest. You’d call them Monday you assured her, thanking her again for taking you out.

“It’s not problem. Maybe you and Spencer could come over for dinner one evening soon as well. I really do want to get to know you Y/N. And if you’re ever bored during the day, give me a call. If I’m not at an event then I’m generally just baking at home. Having someone to talk to always makes it more fun.”

You smiled at her sweetly, telling both yourself and her that you would. It would be good for you to have an actual friend here. It had been such a long time since you had one you’d almost forgotten what it was like.

Emily left and you began putting the shopping away, reusing the bags to put the expired food items into. Just as you were finishing up you heard the front door unlock as Spencer returned home. Was it really that time already? Glancing at your phone you saw that it was just after 4pm and you remembered that you needed to get ready for the ‘family’ meal. You carried the bags of expired food through the house and into the dining room where you’d been putting all of the items to throw out, meeting Spencer in the hallway as you were done, him looking you up and down.

“Before you ask why I’m not ready, we’ve not long got home. I was busy all morning sorting some things out in the study. I’m just about to go and get ready now.”

Spencer frowned slightly and then uncreased his brow. “Y/N, it’s fine. I can see you’ve been busy. We don’t have to leave until around 6.30pm anyway.”

That gave you plenty of time to have another shower and to make yourself presentable. Remembering the folders you’d bought you spoke again. “Oh, erm… I had an idea if it’s okay with you? I picked up some nice ring binders which I thought we could display your fan mail in, rather than having it kept in boxes? But I do think it perhaps needs sorting out first as there’s a lot of it. And there’s lots of piles of papers in the study that I haven’t the first clue what to do with. The trash collection around here is a Tuesday morning so if you’re not too busy tomorrow do you think you could have look through things then? Emily told me that if I call the local authority and pay an upfront fee they’ll take away extra trash for us.”

Us. That sounded strange on your lips.

“I’m pretty much done at the office now anyway so yes, I’ll sort the study out tomorrow. Thank you for what you’ve done so far, and your idea about displaying letters does sound quite nice.”

It all seemed so formal between you both.

“Oh and Y/N. I picked up something for you today.” Spencer handed you a large black bag, you taking it and being suprised at how heavy it was. When you peered inside you saw a rectangular cardboard box, the words laptop computer standing out.

“I just thought it would be useful for you to have. You can try writing again on it.”

Had he not listened to a word you’d said? Had he not paid attention to you at all?

“Once you’ve got the house sorted, of course. But there’s plenty of online magazines and newspapers that will accept submissions and if they like you, they’ll pay you.” Spencer had hope in his eyes, and an ernest expression on his face, one that you hadn’t seen in a while. He thought he’d done good. You felt an extremely uneasy feeling in your stomach, a feeling you couldn’t quite place. Counting to ten mentally you forced a smile of thanks across your face.

“That’s very kind Spencer, thank you.” The same formal tone that he had. “I’m sure that once I’ve got everything sorted in the house, I’ll be able to think of something to write.”

Even though you hadn’t for years and had no intention of even trying. Part of you told you that it was the thought that counted, that he’d tried to do something nice for you. The other part screamed at you that he wasn’t even listening to you anymore. Did he ever though? Really?

“I’ll take it upstairs with me now, and set it up when I have a moment. Six thirty you said we were leaving?” Spencer nodded, looking pleased with himself. “Ill be ready for then,” you told him before turning and heading upstairs. Once there you opened the closet and stashed the bag in there.

Perhaps, if it came to it, you’d could sell it.


	13. Chapter 13

You lay in bed later that evening, your tummy full of home cooked food and your eyes heavy with tiredness. You couldn’t decide if the evening had been better than you’d expected or worse.

Spencer had driven you both there. Initially, you’d planned on offering to drive you both, thinking that if you drove it would help you stick to your new self vow to lower your alcohol intake. After Spencer’s “gift” though, you decided that you needed a drink, just one or two, and after all, you’d told yourself you’d lower the intake, not cut it off completely. The drive over had been relatively quiet, a classical music radio station playing in Spencer’s car, him humming along quietly as you stared out of the window trying to memorise the route in case you ever did need to come here. When Spencer had knocked on the front door with Will opening it seconds later, a small, blonde haired ball of energy rushed forwards, surprising you entirely by wrappings its arms around your waist as tightly as they could go.

“Aunt Y/N!”

“Hi Henry!” you raised your eyebrows at his father, noticing the look of amusement in Will’s face.

“He’s been looking forward to seeing you all day, doll. Been trying to convince his mama to let him stay up later to eat with the adults but she’s having none of it.”

You were surprised Henry even remembered you to be honest, but then again it is sometimes funny how the mind works, a person or sometimes just a name sticking with you. You patted the blonde head that was still nestled against your stomach and prised his arms from around your waist.

“Well I guess we’ll just have to have some fun before bedtime then won’t we Henry?” The little boys eyes lit and he slipped his hand into yours.

“Can I show Aunt Y/N my bedroom, Dad?”

Will nodded and Henry grinned widely, tugging you along the hall and up the stairs. You let yourself be tugged, looking back and making a shrugging motion at the men, clocking the slight scowl on Spencer’s face. Was he annoyed at you for going with his… well your nephew? Was he jealous of the attention you were getting from him? Or perhaps seeing you with Henry was reminding him of what you had taken away from him, once by accident and the second time through your own choices? You pushed it to the back of your mind, away with all of the other thoughts and questions you had about the state of your life right now and allowed yourself to be taken in by your nephew’s excitement.

Henry showed you all his favourite toys with glee, you making the appropriate noises and taking each from him and looking it over with acted awe. He had a child sized artist easel in the corner of his room and when he saw you that you’d seen it, he dragged you over and started flipping through the huge drawing pad that was on there, you smiling at his paintings. For a child, they were good and you told him so.

“Mr Alvez says so too, he says I’m the best artist in his class!” Henry grinned at you happily, lisping due to two missing front teeth.

“Henry, Y/N, wherever did you disappear off too?” Diana Reid poked her head around the door and you glanced up at the huge clock on the wall, realising that you’d been up here for almost forty minutes.

“Henry was showing me all his favourite toys,” you told her, a genuine smile upon your face. You’d quite happily spend the evening up here, playing with them if you could.

“Well my boy, your mama says it’s your bedtime. And it’s almost dinner time for the adults. We’ve got time for one bed time story, a quick one.”

“Can Y/N read it to me?” the little boy asked and you felt your heart melt a little. Diana looked over at you and you nodded.

“I’ll tell you what, we’ll both read it to you,” she said. Henry grabbed a book and hopped into bed, more willingly than most children would and you and Diana took it in turns to read page after page until Will called you both downstairs with the news that dinner was served. You kissed the boys head and assured him that you’d come back to see him soon, walking down the stairs to the dining room with Diana.

That had been the best part of the evening, spending time with a child who had no judgement against you, only love for you.

The rest of the evening was uncomfortable for you as you knew it would be, polite questions thrown your way by Will and Diana which you answered as easily as you could, throwing you mask as Spencer Reid’s wife back on.

And then…

“So what are your plans here Y/N?” Diana asked you.

“Plans?” you questioned, swallowing down the mouthful of delicious chicken.

“She means are you planning on getting a job at all or just continuing to sponge off my brother?”

Those words came from Jennifer who although she’d always looked like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, had quite the sharp tongue when it came to defending people she cared about.

“Jennifer!” Diana scolded at the same time as both Will and Spencer said, “JJ,” harshly. She shrugged and continued eating, Spencer answering for you.

“Y/N is still unpacking for us, we had quite a lot of things to bring with us and she’s finding a home for everything. After that, I’m hoping she’ll begin to write again.”

Your jaw clenched and you forced yourself to unclench it.

“Well perhaps if that doesn’t work out, you could train as a teachers aid or something. You’re very good with Henry, Y/N, and I know the elementary school are always in need of good aids.” Diana smiled softly at you and you took her idea on board.

“That’s actually a good suggestion Diana, thank you. I’ll look into it. Children do seen like me for some reason and I like them too.”

“Hmmmmph!” the noise that came from Jennifer then cleared up any doubt in your mind about whether she knew about the abortion or not.

“JJ, I feel like we all need some more drinks. Help me in the kitchen please.” Spencer spoke to his twin in a tone that she obviously knew not to argue with and they disappeared for a few moments. When they returned, she shot you a sweet smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes and dinner and dessert were finished with the polite, and incredibly boring, conversation from earlier continued.

As you left Diana made promises to come round and help you one day, telling you she’d take you out into the city for lunch as well, you telling her that would be nice.

During the drive home you heard Spencer take a breath as if he was going to speak multiple times, before stopping himself. Finally just as you were heading up to bed, a large glass of wine in hand, which quite frankly you felt you deserved, he spoke.

“I apologise for my twin. She’s very protective of me.”

“Don’t apologise on her behalf Spencer. You can’t control what she says to me.”

He went to speak again but you interrupted him with one last sentence before you left him for the evening.

“You can only control what you say to her that makes her feel she has the right to say those things to me.”

…

The next morning you awoken later than you’d intended to, having not bothered to set an alarm because you hadn’t bothered with alarms in months, because you’d had no reason to get out of bed in the morning.

Spencer’s twin had got to you last night but at the same time, if you put yourself in her shoes looking at yours and his relationship, you could see where she was coming from. You wondered what it felt like to have someone so protective of you that they would purposely make someone else feel uncomfortable. Spencer had defended you to her in the past, you remembered when they came into the city for the wedding that he’d hurriedly arranged, the first time you’d met his sister. You’d overheard a conversation between them.

“Oh come on Spencer, she can’t even drink at her own wedding.”

“JJ, she’s pregnant, of course she can’t drink.”

“That’s not what I mean and you know it. Was she failing her class or something and offered to let you have a go on her to increase her grade? Or does she just have serious daddy issues and wants someone to take care of her and fund her my little pony collection. I can’t believe you were stupid enough to…. ”

“Jennifer! Enough. It’s not like that, I love her.”

You’d walked away at that point, not caring to hear Spencer preach about how much he loved you, you heard that daily from him. But this was how you knew that sweet little Jennifer Joy was not quite as lovely as people thought.

You lounged for a while longer before pulling yourself out off bed and heading downstairs with plans to sort out the kitchen. Passing by the open study door, you paused when Spencer called out your name.

“Morning Y/N, I’m going through these boxes like you asked me to.” He was pretty much knee deep in papers. “Where do you want me to put the stuff that needs throwing out?”

You thought carefully. The dining room table was getting pretty full and you didn’t want to be breaking your back by bending down all the time.

“Put whatever you don’t want in boxes on the study desk and put everything else either away, or if it’s the letters you want me to put in the ring binders, then put them in a box by the door. I’ll get to them at a later stage.”

He nodded and you got the feeling he wanted to say more to you but didn’t. Instead, you had a house related question for him.

“What do you want me to do with your parents crockery? We have all of our own still boxed up from New York and I can’t fit it all in the cupboards.”

He pursed his lips, thinking and then making a decision. “I know my mom has crockery in the annexe at JJ’s so I don’t think she’ll want it. Box it up and put ours in its place. I’ll find out what she wants me to do with it but I imagine she want it to go to charity or something.”

That was the answer you’d hoped for as it would give you an excuse to shut yourself off in the kitchen, so that’s what you did, spending the entire day working in there and unpacking a large majority of the boxes, leaving the hall way looking so much clearer. You unplugged the chest freezer, putting towels down on the floor just in case. You intended to leave it off over night and then take everything out tomorrow morning, ready for the trash collection the next day.

Despite having food in, Spencer ordered take out food. Both of you had been working all day and neither could be bothered to attempt to cook. Over dinner he told you that everything was sorted and separated onto two piles in the places you’d told him. Afterwards, he took himself off upstairs, claiming that he wanted an early night ready for his first day teaching tomorrow but that he’d be home at around 6pm. His absence from your company suited you fine and you settled down on the couch, watching a film until you found yourself drifting to sleep.

The next day Spencer was gone as you knew he would be. You looked outside, seeing that it was hammering it down with rain, droplets seemingly to rebound from the ground as they hit. The air was muggy and the atmosphere strange, like a storm was brewing. You searched the number for the local authority, them taking payment over the phone to collect your extra trash, then you checked the weather forecast, wondering how long you could avoid goings outside. Heavy rain all day and all night with the chance of thunderstorms, as you’d suspected. You bit the bullet and shoved your feet into an old pair of ballet pumps you didn’t mind ruining, starting to heave the boxes and rubbish bags you accumulated down to the end of the drive.

Next you tackled the now defrosted freezer, loading the contents into bags and abandoning them outside too, your clothes and hair soaked through all ready. Lastly, you entered the study, suprised to see only two boxes lined up on the floor, whilst there were at least five boxes on the desk. You’d thought Spencer would have wanted to keep more stuff than that but perhaps he was now also taking the approach of starting over. One by one you hauled them outside, stacking them by the now overflowing trash cans. You peeked inside the final box, seeing piles of letters and the old shoebox you’d seen the other day, not even thinking twice about it.

Finally finished, you kicked off your sodden ballet pumps, leaving them by the front door to dry out. You ran yourself an extremely hot bath, falling asleep in the bubbles for an hour or two, only waking when the temperature cooled. Afterwards, you redressed, throwing on a t shirt and jeans, lying on your bed and scrolling through some of the recipes Emily had sent you. Perhaps you could make Spencer dinner, he’d certainly be suprised to come home to find a home cooked dinner made by yours truly. Yes, that’s what you’d do. The cell phone was dying and the socket you’d shoved the charger into was in a hard to reach place so you quickly jotted down the recipe and instructions for a stir fry, knowing you had at least all of important ingredients in thanks to Emily. You left your phone on on charge and took yourself down stairs, pleased with yourself that you were at least trying.

When Spencer walked through the door an hour later he was greeted with the smell of chicken and garlic sizzling. When he entered the kitchen, you smiled sweetly at him and asked his day was, deciding that a kiss on the cheek was a long way off and instead handing him a glass of wine. He told you about his day as you dished out the food, you making all the appropriate noises but truth be told, not really listening to him. Then there was just the sound of forks scraping against plates, glasses being drunk from as you drank your… shock horror, water and he drank his wine, refilling his glass when it was empty.

“This food is delicious Y/N, what a lovely surprise to come home to.”

His praise made you feel pleased with yourself, for once it seemed you had done something right.

“And the house is beginning to feel more liked our home as well. You’ve been working hard.”

“Well I’ve been trying, and it’s been nice to have something to do. I was suprised though, I must say, by the amount of things you got rid of from your study.”

“There was only the two boxes, Y/N. That was mainly just the envelopes all the letters had come in.”

You paused, your fork raised in the air and a sinking feeling hitting you. “No, I counted six boxes. The ones you left on the desk where I told you to put anything you wanted to throw out.”

It was Spencer’s turn to pause. “No, it was the two boxes on the floor. You told me to put anything I wanted to keep on the desk.”

You calmly placed your cutlery down on the table, knowing full well what you had told him. “Spencer, I told you that anything for the trash was to go on the desk and I know I told you this because I didn’t want to keep bending down to pick things up.”

Your husband paled. “That’s not what you said.”

You were about to argue with him when he spoke again. “Where are the boxes from the desk Y/N?”

You almost didn’t want to reply, knowing that although you had done nothing wrong, you were going to be blamed anyway. And given how long those boxes had been out in the pouring rain, you knew that anything in them, especially anything paper based, would be ruined.

“Where are they Y/N?” he asked again, his jaw clenched.

“Outside,” you replied timidly. He shoved his chair back, rushing outside whilst you sat and waited, that sinking feeling getting worse. Moments later he was back, the only item with him was the shoebox, it dripping wet and the cardboard falling to pieces.

Spencer emptied the contents on the table, paper that had once been white, now sodden and smeared with illegible ink.

“No no no no no!!” Spencer cried with anguish, more emotion in his voice than you’d heard for a while. You caught sight of a line of handwriting not yet ruined by the rain.

“My darling William….”

Shit. Oh God, these were letters to his father.

“Spencer…. I…. I’m sorry…” this wasn’t your fault but you felt that you had to apologise.

He poured over the letters, getting more and more agitated when they tore at his touch.

“Spencer?” you stood up, making a move to go towards him. “Stop, maybe we can dry them….”

“You ruin everything!”

You stopped in your tracks feeling like you’d been slapped in the face. Your husband’s eyes narrowed and anger flashed in them.

“Everything you touch, you ruin. It was your fault we were in that car accident, you couldn’t wait a few more hours to get home. You’re the one that was unfaithful, you’re the one that had the abortion. And now you’ve destroyed these. You’re poisen Y/N, poisen!”

“Spencer… I’m sorry…. I didn’t….”

“Get out.”

You blinked, thinking you hadn’t heard him right.

“GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!” The full wine glass that was on the table suddenly whizzed passed your head, you jumping as it smashed loudly against the wall behind you.

“GET OUT!”

You spun around, slipping on the now wet floor in your hurry, wincing as your palm came down on a piece of broken glass, a thick line of crimson suddenly appearing on your skin. A hand grasped your arm roughly, hauling you up and pushing you towards the door.

“Spencer… It was an accident… Spencer… Please!” Your phone and bag were upstairs, your car keys on the kitchen counter, your feet were bare and it was still hammering with rain.

“I don’t ever want to see you again!” he opened the front door and pushed you angrily outside, throwing your ballet pumps out after you and loudly slamming the door, the locks turning second later.

Lightning cracked above you, a loud clap of thunder following it.

The storm had finally come.


	14. Chapter 14

Staring at the locked front door, rain streaming down your face, you wondered what the hell had just happened. You pounded on the door for a few minutes, pleading with your husband through the wood to let you in, if only to get the car keys or your phone so that you could call Emily.

When he didn’t answer you relented, shoving your feet into the still damp pumps and pushing your hair back out of your eyes, realising too late that you’d used your bleeding hand and most likely had blood on your face. You balled your hand into a tight fist and started to walk, tears mixing freely with the rainwater as you reached the end of drive having no idea where to go.

After a moments deliberation you turned left, knowing that it was at least the way into town and if you walked for long enough you would eventually find somewhere you could make a collect call from, having no one else you could really call except Emily. You pushed the thought of what you would do if you couldn’t get through to her out of your mind, pushing the thought of what you would do even if you could, further away. He didn’t want to see you again, he said, which on one hand should have been music to your ears. But on the other, you weren’t ready for this, you weren’t prepared for the fall out of him throwing you out into the rain with nothing except the clothes on your back. Right now, all you focused on was walking, shoving your still bleeding hand under your armpit to stem the blood that was starting to drip from your fist. After fifteen minutes or so, your sodden pumps were starting to rub horribly on your heals but you knew that if you stopped and rested, you wouldn’t go again.

After another ten minutes, you were shivering, soaked through to the bone, your heart thuddering with every crack of thunder. You saw headlights in the distance coming towards you, and you stood to the side of the road, hoping you wouldn’t get splashed as they passed by. You briefly contemplated flagging them down, then remembering that you’d have to give a reason for being out in the rain, bleeding. No, your best bet was to find a phone and call Emily. The car slowed as it passed and you started walking, slightly faster once you became aware that it had pulled over, the sound of a door opening.

“Y/N?!”

You recognised that voice. Luke.

Stop or carry on, stop or carry on?

“Y/N!”

Stop.

You turned and he ran towards you, his eyes taking in your state with concern.

“Are you okay? What the hell are you doing out in this?”

“I…. I…”

“Come and get in the car, I’ll take you wherever you need to be.” Luke put his hand on your back, pushing you forward gently and you let him, sinking into the passenger side of his vehicle, and trying not cry.

“You’re bleeding.” You’d removed your hand to fasten the seat belt and Luke noticed the bloody mess. You quickly shoved it back under your armpit.

“Y/N, did….” Luke took a deep breath, almost as if he was scared of asking you. “Did something happen between you and Spencer? Did he do that to you?”

You shook your head because he hadn’t, not really.

“Why are you out here then? And why are you bleeding?”

There was no excuse that you could think of other than the truth. “We had an argument, I threw out some of William’s things and Spencer kicked me out.”

“Into this?!” Luke looked appalled, his face quickly turning angry. “He kicked you out into the rain with nothing?”

You nodded.

“And your hand Y/N, what happened to your hand?”

“He…. he threw a wine glass at the wall and I cut myself on it.”

“He threw it at the wall or at you?” Luke was breathing deeply now, his fists balled up and you could sense that he was trying to calm himself down.

“At the wall.” At least, you thought it had been at the wall. Surely if he’d have thrown it at you, it wouldn’t have missed. His words never missed their target so you doubted anything physical he threw would.

“Right.” He started the engine up, and you suddenly panicked.

“Wait wait wait! Where are we going?”

He read your panic for what it was, “Not back there,m. Your hand needs looking at, that cut is deep. I’m taking you to Tara and Emily’s.”

You let out a sigh of relief as Luke reached behind him to the back seat, handing you a hoody.

“It might pong a bit cos it’s been in here for a while but it’s warm, and you’re shaking.” He cranked the heating up as you pulled his hoody on, ignoring the slightly musty smell from it. Then he drove, you watching the rain hitting the windscreen. He turned off down a long lane, hitting the breaks harshly as a shape ran out in front of him, causing you to lunge forward in your seat, the seat belt pulling taunt across your chest.

“Damn animals! Are you okay?”

You weren’t listening, your mind suddenly transported back to the last time you were in a car in the middle of a storm and an animal had run out in front of you.

…

_“We really should have gotten a hotel room, Y/N.” Your new husband navigated the roads, leaning forward and peering through the rain covered windscreen as if it would help him see better._

_“I know, I know. I just really really wanted to get home today.” You sighed, knowing it would be gone midnight before you arrived back in the city._

_“I do understand you know, I want you fully rested for the scan on Thursday as well. It’s just….”_

_He didn’t have to continue, you could see he was as frustrated as were you. After two weeks on your honeymoon, you’d suddenly been cursed with bad luck. A rowdy passenger getting into an actual fist fight with another passenger had meant the plane had made an unscheduled landing, and then when it came time to take off again, a fault with the plane was discovered which meant it wasn’t allowed to fly. Everyone aboard had needed to disembark whilst the airline sorted out alternative travel arrangements. You’d only been a four hour drive from your new home in NYC so you’d somehow convinced Spencer to hire a car and drive the rest of the way home. An hour into the journey and the heavens had opened, making the dark roads terrible to drive on and making Spencer curse and mutter under his breath._

_“I know, I know Spencer. I’m sorry okay. Just keeping thinking about Thursday, we’ll get to find out the sex this time right?”_

_Out of the corner of your eyes you could see his face light up and he nodded. “I’m still certain it’s a girl though. My little princess.”_

_You smiled to yourself, the way he talked about the small being in side your tummy was sweet and you pushed yourself to remind yourself what a good father he would be. It wasn’t like these last few months had been horrific either. Spencer had stepped up after convincing you to give him a chance, making all the arrangements for the wedding, honeymoon, new apartment in a new city, all whilst showering you with all the love and affection you could have asked for. The problem was, you weren’t asking for it and at times, he became a little overbearing. There’d been times where you’d awoke in the night, his arms so tightly wrapped around you that you were scared you might suffocate. You’d had to push him away, rolling to the edge of the bed to get some space from him. At least the rooms you’d been staying in these last two weeks had huge beds._

_Your honeymoon had been much better than the wedding itself. The morning of your wedding you’d wanted to cry and runaway, but you didn’t have anywhere to run to. You had no one there from your family not that you even had any family to speak of. Upon discovering your were marrying your teacher because you’d had fallen pregnant, your aunt had admonished you, telling you how you’d regret it just like your mother had regretted getting married, and you two had had an argument that had ended with ties being severed. After telling yourself that you had no other option and that least Spencer loved you, no matter whether you loved him back, you pulled yourself together enough to get through the ceremony. You’d been given away by Spencer’s brother in law, his father acting as his best man. A smile that didn’t quite meet your eyes was plastered on your face and you learnt to play the part that you played for the next three years, the loving little wife. When Spencer had asked where you wanted to go on your honeymoon, you had faltered, insisting there was no need for one. He persisted though, constantly, and in the end you told him England. It wasn’t that you had a burning desire to go there, it was that it was one of the few places you and Derek hadn’t talked about travelling to together. So England it was, and you had spent the last two weeks travelling around the various cities in hire cars and seeing the sites. And some days, you genuinely enjoyed yourself. Spencer had a wealth of knowledge tucked away, and it was actually pleasant seeing those sites with him. Now though, it was back to your new life, back to your new reality._

_You yawned and shifted uncomfortably, your back aching. Your tummy had the slightest curve to it, something that had actually disgusted you when you’d first noticed it. Now, you were coming around to the idea, thinking that at least being a mother would give you a purpose, and a child loves its mother unconditionally, because mother is God in the eyes of a child or so you believed. Even your own mother abandoning you hadn’t made you hate her, it just made you want answers. You wouldn’t do that to your own child though, however unready you were for this._

_“Try and get some rest if you can Y/N, I’ll be fine driving,” Spencer told you, your yawn not going unnoticed. You decided to just rest your eyes for a few moments._

_The screeching of wheels awoke you, followed by an extremely loud crunching noise and pain across your torso as your seat belt pulled taut to try to keep you in place. The next thirty seconds were a blur, unimaginable sounds as your husband swerved the hire car to avoid what you now knew to be a deer, misjudging completely on the rain soaked roads and rolling the car down the bank at the side of the road. You must have blacked out as when you came to, you were upside down in your seat, Spencer yelling your name. You could taste blood and there a ringing in your ears, your head extremely fuzzy, like you woken up from an all night bender._

_Managing to release your seat belt, you awkwardly crawled out of the smashed up window, Spencer following a few moments later, searching for his cell in the wreckage and dialling 911. You collapsed on the ground, a safe distance away from the broken glass of the wreck, feeling an intense pain shooting through your stomach followed by a horrific dampness between your legs that you would normally associate with your period._

_Except it wasn’t, of course it wasn’t._

_That was the first time you let Spencer Reid down._

…

  
“Y/N, you okay?” Luke waved his hand in front of your face and you realised you were staring into space.

“Sorry, I’m okay,” you assured him, blinking away your memories.

You just wished you could erase the memories completely.


	15. Chapter 15

Luke continued driving, not speaking to you but you could feel him glancing at you every few moments. Eventually he pulled up outside a large house, not too dissimilar in style to the Reid's house. You both exited the car, hurrying to the front door which Luke banged on loudly. Seconds later it was opened by Emily. 

"Luke, hey. To what do we owe this pleasure.... Y/N.... oh shit, what's happened. Come in come in." Her confused but pleased smile at her evening visitors disappeared as she saw you drenched, with bloodstains on your face and shirt. She ushered you into the kitchen, calling for Tara who quickly appeared at the sound of her partner's voice. 

"What is it babe?" Tara did a double take when she saw you and Luke in her kitchen, her eyes quickly raking over you. "Y/N? What happened?" 

You were suddenly so overcome with emotion that you couldn't speak, the words stopping and sticking in your throat. Tara approached you, pushing your rain soaked hair out of your eyes, quickly realising the source of the blood was not your face. She gently tugged your hand out from under your armpit, Luke's hoody now ruined, leading you to the sink and inspecting the damage. 

"Y/N?" she tried again, turning the tap so that a thin stream of water flowed out and holding your hand under it, being careful to avoid the cut itself. 

"I found her walking down the main route into town. She and Spencer had an argument and he threw her out." Luke still had anger in voice, and you were momentarily concerned that he was going to show up on your husbands doorstep. 

"Why is she hurt though?" Emily asked him, her voice coated in disbelief and concern. 

"He threw a wine glass at the wall, apparently."

Emily moved to your side, resting her hand softly on your shoulder. "Did Spencer do this to you Y/N? You can tell us sweetie."

You shook your head, finding your voice. "He didn't hurt me, Emily."

"He threw you out into the middle of an thunderstorm, when you were bleeding!" Luke was pacing the kitchen now. 

"He didn't physically harm me though."

Luke muttered something under his breath which you didn't quite catch, before speaking in his normal voice. "Em, can I use your bathroom please?" 

She directed him to where it was before turning back to you. 

"You promise me he didn't hurt you."

"He didn't do anything to me physically. He yelled and threw the wine glass and I slipped on the floor trying to get out."

"Babe, will you fetch my medical bag for me? And maybe some towels and dry clothes for Y/N?" 

Emily nodded and disappeared, returning a few minutes later with the items Tara asked for. Tara wrapped your hand with a towel, instructing you to change first before you caught pneumonia. She pointed their utility room off to the side of kitchen out and you quickly shed your sodden clothes and pumps, climbing into warm sweats. When you came back there was a glass of amber coloured liquid set out on the table as well as a steaming cup of what looked to be coca. Tara had laid out another towel and some items from her bag. Nodding her head towards a seat, you took it and held your hand back out. 

"It's a little deeper than I'd like so I'm going to give you a few stitches okay?" 

You nodded, quickly taking a drink of the whiskey as she cleaned your hand with antiseptic, the sting making you wince. 

"I'm.... I'm going to see where Luke has got to," Emily suddenly announced, leaving the room. Luke had been gone for an usually long time. 

"She hates blood would you believe it? Which working with the amount of sharp knives that she does, is not a good thing," Tara started suturing your palm, you looking away and at the door as she did, taking another deep glug on the drink. "You'll need to try and keep it as dry as you can for the next few days, and try not to use it as much. Are you right handed?" You nodded. "That's good then. You'll at least be able to get by."

She continued to work, wrapping up your hand in a bandage just as you heard another knock on the door. You froze and Tara sensed it. 

"Don't worry. If it's him, they won't let him in. Emily can be quite fiesty when she wants to be and I doubt Luke will let him get near you."

"He didn't hurt me Tara, I swear it."

"He might not have done this, but he threw you out in the middle of a storm. I don't know the ins and outs of what your argument was about, but that's bad enough...."

You heard footsteps approaching the kitchen and Emily and Luke both returned, Luke looking slightly sheepish. And you then realised why. 

"Y/N, doll. What happened?" your brother in law asked, crossing the room and taking up the chair next to you. You glared at Luke, him meeting you eyes and not looking away. 

"I had to Y/N," was his response to your bitch face. 

"You and Spencer had a fight..." Will prompted, taking in your bandaged hand. 

"Something like that..." You explained the whole sorry situation to him, to them all really. How you'd given him instructions and how he'd misunderstood which had resulted in your throwing out something that was obviously very important to him. How he'd yelled at you, you not even repeating the words he'd said because you couldn't speak them out of fear that he was right. Maybe you were poison? You told them how he threw the glass, at the wall and not you, you falling on it and him hauling you upwards and marching you to the door, locking it behind you. 

Will listened, they all listened, their faces growing sterner and sterner until you were finished. Then there was silence for a few moments until Emily coughed and spoke up. 

"Even if.... even if you had got it wrong and told him the wrong place, which I strongly doubt it, it's still not an excuse for him to behave this way. It was an accident, a mistake. You didn't throw these things out intentionally."

It was a mistake. Just like so many things in your life. 

"Did you even know what these things were?" Will asked. 

You shook your head. "It looked like letters."

Luke and Tara were both stony faced, not commenting. 

"Right. You can come and stay with us," Will announced and you knew that was the worst possible suggestion, seeing that even he was doubting the offer as soon as he made it. 

"Will... I can't.... Jennifer hates me and I... And Spencer..... I can't turn up at your house telling his mother that his son threw me out..I'll figure something out."

A silent exchange took place between Emily and Tara, Emily offering, "Stay here. We have the room and you can keep me company during the day."

"Emily... I can't. I can't impose on you."

"Y/N, you wouldn't be. Seriously, we have a spare room and one more mouth to feed isn't a problem the way Emily cooks." Tara smiled at you, a smile that was incredibly genuine that you knew she wasn't just offering because she felt she had to. 

"I just...." 

"Y/N," Emily interrupted you. "You don't have a job, you told me Saturday that you don't really have any money of your own, and you're in a town where you know very few people. You don't have much choice. Stay with us, at least for a few days until we can figure something out."

She was right and you timidly accepted their offer, thanking them before turning to Will. 

"Please please don't say anything to Diana or Jennifer, at least not yet. If Spencer tells them, then fine, but please don't say anything. Or tell him where I am."

"I won't darlin', I won't. Please tell me though, you promise me he didn't hurt you tonight. That he's never physically hurt you?" 

"He didn't do this to me, I swear it Will." You avoided the rest of the question because he HAD hurt you. Perhaps not intentially but three people in this room had seen the bruises that Spencer Reid had given you the morning of the funeral. 

"You don't owe him anything Y/N. He may be my brother in law but that wouldn't mean anything if he had done something to you."

You wanted to tell them that there was nothing Spencer could do to you that was worse than anything you could do to yourself, or to him really. 

"He didn't do anything other than throw me out of the house. I'm telling you the truth Will, why do you seem so certain that I'm not?" 

Will sighed and looked around the room before staring you directly in the eyes.

"Because I've seen this sort of thing before Y/N. And with everything I know about Spencer Reid, it wouldn't surprise me in the slightest."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a big ask but if you’re enjoying my content and you’re financially able to then you may consider buying me a Ko-Fi as a way of financially supporting my writing. Many thanks to you if you do, it means so much to me that anyone might enjoy my work enough to dontate to me
> 
> https://ko-fi.com/cherrywhisp


	16. Chapter 16

"Because I've seen this sort of thing before Y/N. And with everything I know about Spencer Reid, it wouldn't surprise me in the slightest." 

Will's words shocked you into silence and you felt the atmosphere in the room shift. You knew the others wanted to ask and you also knew that Will was regretting saying anything in a room full of people who already wanted your husband's head on a plate. It was Emily that gave in first. 

"You can't just say that and leave us hanging." She tried to make a joke of something that really wasn't something to joke about and although you appreciated her efforts, it fell flat. 

"I shouldn't have said anything," Will shook his head solemnly at which you made a decision. You wanted.... no, you needed to know. 

"But you did," you told him. "And you can't unsay it. What did he do Will?" 

Will frowned, shaking his head again. "I can't... I shouldn't..." 

"Is it on a police record somewhere? Is that why you can't tell me?" 

"No, it never went on record. I shouldn't even know about it but I do because of my father." 

"Not to be blunt Will," Emily again and you knew full well she was going to be. "But your daddy isn't with us anymore. So it's not like he can get in trouble for you telling us." 

"Please Will? If he's done something, I need to know. Did he hurt someone?" 

Your brother in law closed his eyes for longer than was usual and when he opened them, he looked around the room, staring the occupants of it down, one by one. 

"You CANNOT breathe a word of this to anyone. Especially Spencer, Diana or JJ. I'm not even sure Diana and JJ know." 

You sat forward in your seat, draining the last of the whiskey. Emily took it and refilled it, sitting down at the table as well, as Luke moved closer. You felt a sense of trepidation, and almost excitement, like you were going to be told some horrific and terrifying ghost story that was going to give you nightmares instead of something about your own husband. 

"We won't say anything," Emily promised him, Tara nodding along with her. Will looked over to Luke. 

"I won't say anything," Luke told him. 

"And you won't do anything either," Will stated and Luke glumly nodded. "You sure you wanna hear this Y/N?" 

You nodded at your brother in law and he gave one last sigh before he began. 

"Alright, I have no proof Spencer has been physically violent, let me just say that. But there's something off about the way he treats women. You all know that my father moved here and became sheriff after he and my momma divorced right, and that when I used to come visit him for the summers, that's how I met JJ?" The others nodded and you did too even though you had no real knowledge of this. You knew Will wasn't from around here, his southern accent gave that much away, but you had no details on the origin of him and Jennifer. Given how closer Spencer and she seemed to be, Spencer rarely spoke about her to you. Will confined on and you listened intently. 

"So when we started dating, my daddy told me to be careful, and to watch out for her twin. He was reluctant to tell me why but I could always get information out of him that I shouldn't have. Turns out, there was an incident when Spencer was 19. He was home from college for the summer and he and his father thought it would be a good idea for him to offer some tutoring sessions. It would look good to his professors and would give him some teaching experience. Having had his first novel published and being somewhat of a teenage prodigy in the literary world, his services were snapped up and he spent the summer tutoring, before suddenly leaving two weeks earlier than planned. My father was really good friends with Raymond Greenaway.... " 

"The owners of Greenaway's?" Luke interrupted and Will nodded. "I know his daughter Elle, she was two years above me in school. I had the hugest crush on her ever." 

"So did a lot of people boyo, so did a lot of people." Emily winked at Luke suggestively and you chuckled despite the situation. 

"Yeah, so did a lot of people. Spencer included," Will spoke, causing Luke to frown. 

"If Spencer was 19 though, Elle would have been what, 16?" 

"She turned 16 the summer he was tutoring her. You see, Elle Greenaway aspired to be a writer too, some of her pieces were published in the local newspaper and from what I've read of her work, she was very very good...." 

"Hasn't she published her own book? I'm sure I read somewhere that she was up for an award or something..." 

Emily reached out and punched Luke in the arm lightly. "Stop interrupting." 

Will continued on. "Anyway, she was one of Spencer's clients, her family paying him to tutor her until they decided they no longer required his services. Raymond asked my father to have an unofficial word with the Reid's, he didn't want nothing on record but he didn't like the way Spencer behaved around Elle. Diana treated Raymond's wife too, so he didn't want to cause upset as he was very grateful but he was concerned. Said he found notes tucked inside Elle's books from him, notes that were very complimentary of her work but he said they also seemed like love letters. When Raymond asked Elle about them she didn't seem worried, saying how Spencer would sing her praises each time they met and tell her how her writing was brilliant, how her words were setting his soul on fire...." 

Something twigged inside your stomach, a horrible sensation. 

"Then she let slip that Spencer was giving her extra tutelage that her parents weren't paying for, asking her to meet him at the library so they could work together. Her daddy felt uncomfortable with that, so he put a stop to the lessons. Two weeks later Elle talks to her father, suddenly scared. She liked Spencer, she really did, but he was now turning up at the diner she was pulling shifts at, sitting in there all evening until she finished her shift. He was leaving notes for her, telling her how he missed her, how he wanted to see her again. She couldn't swear to it, but she woke one night and thought she saw him outside their house, watching. My dad went and spoke to William and literally the next day, Spencer had gone." 

Will looked at you, checking you were okay and you nodded, sensing there was more. 

"Around three years before you and Spencer married, Y/N, William donated a lot of money to the school Spencer was teaching at. Around 50k. Diana didn't know anything about it until she saw the bank statements. I shouldn't even know this either but I was in the house doing some work for them and overheard their argument. William said the money was a donation to help Spencer get tenure there which considering he resigned a year later and transferred, that didn't seem right. So I did some digging of my own. There's nothing in Spencer's own file but there's a complaint from his teaching assistant at the time. She thought that professor Reid was becoming far too fixated on some of his female students, and thought it should be investigated. That complaint should be in his professional file but it's not. It's only because I dug, that I found it. I don't know exactly what happened there but given the fact that a large sum of money was paid and that teaching assistant was no longer assigned to him after that summester, I suspect that William threw money to make whatever Spencer had done, or not done, go away. Now I don't know about you guys, but that gives me the creeps. And then Y/N, and please darlin', don't take this the wrong way, but then there was you." 

You nodded, dumbfounded. You felt three pairs of eyes on you and knew they were about to ask. "Not tonight, please. I'll explain what he means but not tonight." 

Emily reached out and squeezed your shoulder as Will took another breath to speak. 

"Do you all understand why I'm concerned now? Some might argue that he's not actually done anything wrong. That being a little creepy and problematic doesn't make you an abuser...." 

It was Emily's turn to interrupt him. "No but the things you've said.... That makes him obsessive and easily infatuated, persuasive perhaps. And that can make someone dangerous. Especially when they don't get what they want." 

You wanted to defend Spencer because the things that were being said seemed to be making him out to be a monster. And was he really that much of a monster? 

"It sounds like he's got some issues yes," it was Tara who actually came to his defence, if you could call it that. "But if Y/N says he didn't hurt her and hasn't hurt her in the past, then we have to believe her. I agree with everything you're saying Em, and Will, what you've told us is certainly worrying and definitely will not leave this room. Right now though, we need to not go on a manhunt and accuse anyone of being something we don't know they are. Right now, we're here for Y/N."

You were thankful for her input, mainly because you weren't ready to deal with the things that had been said this evening and what they could possibly mean. You yawned, suddenly feeling extremely exhausted which triggered Will to stand. 

"Y/N, doll. I'm sorry for whatever happened tonight. Even retracting the things we've just discussed, what Spencer did tonight was still inexcusable. I still have a key so I can go around tomorrow when he's at work and get you some things if you'd like?" 

You started to nod and then suddenly shook your head. "He'll know then, he'll know that someone knows where I am. He threw me out, let him live with that for a while. See if he does anything first, see if he tells anyone what he did. I can get by for a few days."

"I have clothes you can borrow and you can stay here for as long as you need, right Tara?" Tara nodded at her partner's words and you felt relief. 

"Fair enough. Just call if you need anything though. I'll stop by tomorrow night to check up with you, okay?" You nodded at Will, thankful that he was looking out for you. It felt nice to actually have people caring. 

"I'll stop by too if that's okay?" Luke asked and you nodded, making a note to make sure his hoody was washed so you could return it, if your blood would ever come out of it. 

"We'll both be off then and leave you in the extremely good hands of these ladies."

The men made their exits, Will kissing you on the cheek as he left and Luke squeezing your shoulder. After assuring both Emily and Tara that you were honestly okay, you asked if they could show you to where you would be sleeping.  Emily led you to a large, airy bedroom with a bed that you just wanted to crawl into and never get out of. 

She leant in, wrapping her arms around with such intensity that you thought your bones might shatter and then you would be nothing. 

"We've got you babe, we've got you."

It was only after she left the room and you closed the door that you allowed yourself to cry again.


	17. Chapter 17

You didn't sleep or at least you didn't think you did. You spent most of the night laying face up on the guest bed, tears that you rarely let anyone see flowing down your face. Minutes blurred into hours as you questioned yourself over and over again, how had you let yourself end up here? 

The things Will had told you had made your blood run cold, yet at the same time you found that you weren't all that suprised. Not now that you thought about it. Spencer HAD been fixated on you, you'd figured that out long ago. So why should you have been the only one it had happened to. And why had you been the only one that had allowed themselves to get trapped by him? 

You knew the answer really. Because you had been that low at that point that marrying someone you didn't love but who's child you'd been carrying, had seemed like the only option you had. And Spencer WASN'T a monster, or at least he wasn't what you would consider one. He'd treated you right for the most part, provided for you even if that meant you having nothing to call your own, he'd left his position at the university and moved to New York for you. Although now you thought about the second incident Will had mentioned, that all made perfect sense. But even though you didn't love Spencer Reid and you would never love him, not truly in the way he wanted you to or at least he used to want you to, you didn't hate him. You were for the most part indifferent to him which was quite possibly worse. You hated yourself for ending up here though, but was that his fault? 

Was it Derek's? 

Surely it had to be yours. 

But now, with everything Will had said, the comments the others had made about him having issues, being obsessive and easily infatuated and that making someone dangerous. And the events of the evening, and him grabbing and bruising your wrists the day of the funeral. 

You now didn't know what to think. 

At some point you must have dozed off a little, you could hear a knocking on the bedroom door and it took you a few befuddled seconds to react to it. Emily entered the room carrying two mugs with her. She held one out to you and motioned towards the mattress, sitting on it when you nodded. You took the drink, smelling strong coffee and you sipped on it gratefully, your eyes feeling like someone had rubbed crushed up glass in them and your banadaged hand still throbbing. 

"How are you feeling this morning?" Emily asked you although you were fairly sure that your face gave it all away. 

"I honestly don't know how to feel about everything." Your voice was hoarse and quiet. 

"That's fairly understandable. Well, you're welcome here as long as you need it babe." 

You nodded, knowing that you didn't have anywhere else to go. "Emily, did you know Spencer when he was younger?" From the things she'd told you you were under the impression that she was from around here. 

"Not really. We went to the same high school but he and JJ were in a different year. I remember being aware of them because most people from this area are, it not often there's two award winning writers in one family, especially one as young as Spencer was, but I didn't really know them. My grandmother and I lived on the other side of town so it's only since I moved back that I got to know the family. 

"Your grandmother?" 

Emily shifted on the bed, getting comfortable as she drank from her cup. "Yeah my grandmother bought me up. I lived with her until I left for college. She passed away a few years ago." 

"Where were your... erm, where were your parents?" It wasn't an unwarranted question to ask but you felt awkward asking all the same. 

Emily pushed a lock of her hair back before beginning. "Well my mom..... My mom's an actress, quite well known in soap opera land actually.... Anyway, I came along at a rather inconvenient time for her I guess because when I was about four months old she decided she wasn't cut out for motherhood and dropped me off with my Geema. She'd turn up once or twice a year and take me out for the day, buy me whatever the latest barbie doll was and then I wouldn't see or hear from her again for months. Growing up, I saw my mother through the TV screen but rarely in person. And I don't know who my father is. She won't say but I suspect it was one of her co stars at the time, an actor called Jason Gideon." 

That name rang a bell in your head and you suddenly knew who her mother was. "Wait your mom's Elizabeth Prentiss?" You could totally see the resemblance now. 

Emily nodded. "I'm not totally sure I'd bestow the title of mother upon her though. I mean our relationship is better now that I'm older but I think it's only a because she doesn't have to take care of me." 

"Do you still see her then?" 

"Not regularly. I didn't see or hear from her for about six years in actual fact. When Tara and I first got together though, we were talking abouts families and our parents and I ended up slipping into about a three month long depression which we figured out was caused by wondering why she didn't want me. So after some pushing and prodding from Tara, I tracked down her address and went and asked her outright." 

"And what did she say?" you were both intrigued and somewhat jealous. At least Emily had been able to speak to her mother. 

"Pretty much that I was an inconvenience to her career. She was terribly apologetic about it to my face, it just wasn't the right time for her to be a mommy and she regretted leaving me and all that. We do see each other occasionally now but I still can't understand. Why have me if she didn't want me? What kind of person abandons their child? Especially someone who was earning good money as well." 

"My mom left me," you blurted out suddenly. Emily's eyes widened at the realisation that you had this in common. 

"She did?" 

"Yeah. She left me and my dad when I was seven years old. Not even her sister knew where she'd gone. She didn't leave a note or anything. I just came home from school one day and she wasn't there." 

"Jesus Y/N. How did your dad take it?" 

"Extremely poorly apparently. He drank himself into a bottle and died from cirrhosis when I was eleven. My Aunt bought me up, mom's sister." 

"My God, parents suck sometimes." 

You nodded in agreement. "People suck sometimes." 

"This is also true," Emily patted your leg through the comforter. "But I don't suck.... At least not dick anyway," she grinned at her own joke. "You wanna get up? Ill make pancakes? Then I could use your help. I gotta try some new recipes out and I need a guinea pig." 

Being Emily's guinea pig sounded incredibly appealing and you told her so. 

"Excellent. If you wanna shower there's fresh towels. And Tara washed your clothes from yesterday, even managed to get the blood out too. Apparently she knows some formula for removing it that she learnt in medical school. I'll see you downstairs in a few." 

After Emily left you hauled yourself off the bed and moved to the bathroom, finding a toothbrush in a wrapper set out for you. You didn't want to risk wetting your bandage so you decided not to shower, just brushing your teeth and washing your face instead. Your eyes were puffy and red and your hair hung in rat tails, the results of the rainwater. 

You looked a mess, which seemed incredibly fitting. 

... 

The rest of the day was spent in Emily's huge kitchen, her feeding you dish after dish whilst her cat Sergio, sat purring on your lap. You got the distinct feeling she was holding back from you, she wanted to ask questions about what Will had referred to last night but she also wanted you to open up to her in your own time. And you decided that you would. Emily was quite possibly the first friend you'd had in years and her and Tara had opened their home to you. You just would do it slowly, you told yourself. 

Tara arrived home later and the three of you sat down for a meal you'd like to say you helped prepare, but really you just sat watching Emily cook, amazed at how quickly she could turn a pile of ingredients into a meal fit for a queen. Just as you were about to begin eating, the doorbell sounded, the three of you pausing and looking at each other. 

"I'll go," Tara put her cutlery down. "It's probably Will checking up on you." 

She disappeared and minutes later she still wasn't back. You and Emily listened carefully, your eyes widening when you realised you could hear your husband talking. 

"Em..." 

"I know. She won't let him in though, not if you don't want her to." 

You did want to hear what was being said though so you both moved to kitchen door. 

"Spencer, she's not here." 

"There's nowhere else she could be though Tara. You're the only people she knows in this town. I just want to speak to her, to find out what happened." Spencer sounded desperate and you closed your eyes briefly knowing exactly how his face would look. 

"If you're that concerned Spencer, then perhaps you could speak to your brother in law," you could hear a slight hint of venom in her voice as she continued. "I'm sure the police department would be very interested to hear how your wife just decided to go for a walk, in the middle of a storm without her phone, bag or keys and not come back. I'm sure they'd also be interested to know why you're only looking for her now, 24 hours later." 

"She's here, I know she's here. Y/N?!" he began calling out loudly. "Y/N!!" 

"Go home Spencer. If you're really concerned about her, speak to Will. And tell him what actually happened rather than the bullshit story you just fed me." 

With that, she slammed the door in his face.


	18. Chapter 18

The next day was very much like the first, Emily bringing you a coffee in bed in the morning before making you breakfast and parking you in her kitchen whilst she created delicious food. 

After dinner the night before you had felt like you were imposing on hers and Tara's time together even though nothing they had said or done had made you feel that way. After Tara checked on your stitches you asked her how to go about bathing. She simply instructed you to keeping your arm over the side of the tub or she could wrap a plastic bag around its for you. With that problem solved you took yourself off upstairs for a bath, awkwardly washing your hair with one hand before falling asleep still wrapped in the towel. When you'd awoken a few hours later you swapped the towel for the hoody Luke had lent you, falling back into a dreamless sleep until the next day. 

The second evening you were there Tara took a phone call from Will, you hearing it from the living room where you and Emily were sat drinking wine. Just a glass you had told yourself. 

"She's doing okay. He showed up here last night though.... Yeah.... Hmmm... No... Really? That's interesting. Lemme know what he has to say for himself. Okay yeah, I'll tell her." 

When she returned to the room and flopped down next to her partner, she spoke. "Apparently Spencer has called Will and asked for a meeting with him tomorrow. Says he'll stop by tomorrow evening to see you're doing and to fill you in. So far, he's not said anything about you being 'missing'." 

You rolled your eyes, pulling Emily's sweatshirt down over your hands. "I doubt very much that he'll tell anyone he kicked me out over a box of only God knows what." 

Emily nodded. "Diana would rip him a new one if she knew." 

They were both quiet for a moment, looking at you and you sighed. It was now or never. 

"You wanna know what Will meant don't you?" 

"Only if you want to tell us," Emily assured you. 

"Let's start with this then. I've been married to Spencer Reid for four years. But do you know how I old I am?" 

It was an odd question which caught them both off guard. They studied your face for a second before Tara answered. "Not basing this on your looks but on how long you've been married and Spencer's own age, I would have said late twenties. Looking at you though, free of all make up as you are now, you barely look old enough to drink." 

"I wasn't old enough to drink when I met Spencer. I wasn't old enough to drink at our wedding. I'm 23, Spencer Reid was my professor." 

"Okay so now I understand Will's comment," Emily spoke, motioning for you to continue. So you did. 

You told them everything. Emily already knew about your parents but you filled Tara in on that. You told them about Derek Morgan, about Jordan Todd, about getting so wasted that you'd been vomiting up your contraceptive pill without realising it. You told them how Professor Reid had always sung your praises in class, how he used to ask you to stay behind, how he wanted to help with your stories. You told them initially you enjoyed the attention from him, thinking it could do your grades and writing career no harm to have him on your side. You told them how he took you home that one night after Derek had ripped your soul to shreds, how you found yourself on his doorstep asking for help with a termination only to have him beg for you to become his. And because you'd felt like you had no other option at that point, and didn't particularly care what happened to you, you did. 

Ignoring the shocked look on Emily's face and the carefully placed, none judgemental doctor look on Tara's, you carried on. You told them about the car accident, how your baby didn't even have a coffin because there was nothing to bury, just a plague bearing the name "Lara Reid" in a memorial hospital garden in NYC. You told them how almost a year later Spencer had returned from a routine check up in pieces. They'd found lumps where there shouldn't be any, how further tests revealed that the best course of treatment was a bi-lateral orchidectomy plus drug therapy, thus making your husband infertile. You told them how he'd frozen samples to ensure that you could have children together in the future. And then you told them how just over a year ago Derek Morgan had turned up on the scene again, sucking you in and spitting you out once more. How you turned up on his doorstep after sleeping with him in hotel rooms for four months, to tell him you were pregnant. How his new girlfriend Savannah had answered the door, how he'd come running after you in the street. You told them how you expected him to leave her and that you would leave Spencer, so you could start a family together, the way it was meant to be. You started crying as you told how it felt like a punch to the gut when he told you that that wasn't going to happen. How he'd made a mistake, he loved Savannah. He'd support the baby but he didn't want you. 

After a refill you told them how Spencer had found the test in the trash can, how although he'd been angry about the affair, he knew how in love with Derek Morgan you'd once been. How he could forgive you for that because now you could be a family. He'd raise the baby as he own, a prospect you thought was almost laughable. You told them how three months into the pregnancy you awoke one morning in a panic. You couldn't have felt it kick as it was too early but you'd felt something. And that something was telling you that you didn't want this, you didn't want this baby. It was the wrong time, the wrong father both biologically and not. And how you believed that with every fibre of your being. 

You told them how you didn't dare confide in Spencer, making the arrangements yourself. You told them how you called Derek Morgan after the procedure was completed, telling him cruely that his baby was no more, breaking his heart the way he'd broke yours. Tear streamed down your face as you told them how two days later Spencer had come from work, asking you about the clinic charges to his credit card, how you'd expected him to scream and yell at you, quite similar to how he had on the day of his father's funeral. Instead, he did nothing. Instead of telling you he hated you, he simply stopped speaking to you, stopped interacting with you at all, barely acknowledging your existence to him. You told them how you started turning into your own father, seeking solace in a bottle, until you had been dragged away from your New York home to here. 

You told them how you'd told him to divorce you, how he'd refused. How he'd found you in the tub, thinking that you'd tried to kill yourself to escape him and how after that you'd both decided that things needed to change. And how in the space of a week or so that change had resulted in you becoming homeless because he'd thrown you out. How you didn't know what to do now because although you'd wanted this, to be separated from Spencer, you didn't want it to happen like this, when you weren't prepared. Because right now you had nothing, and no one. 

Emily crossed the room as you finished speaking, sitting next to you on the couch and placing her hand on your arm. "You don't have no one, Y/N. You have us." 

You looked up at her, fresh tears falling on your cheeks. 

"She's right Y/N," Tara added. "We'll help you figure this all out okay?" 

You nodded, wondering if anyone could really help you. Everything was just such a mess right now. 

... 

The following evening you had a visitor in the shape of your brother in law. 

And with him, he had some bags and your car on tow. 

"Oh," was all you could say when you saw what he had bought, suprised at the disappointment you felt. 

Will set the bags down and the girls beckoned him through to the kitchen, Emily plying him with cupcakes and pressed juice she'd made earlier today. 

"What did he say then?" Emily was straight to the point. 

Will wiped the cupcake crumbs off his shirt, taking a sip of juice before answering. "Surprisingly, the truth."

"He told you he threw me out?" 

Will nodded. "He asked me not to say anything to Diana or JJ but that he was extremely concerned about you and that it was all his fault. He told me about the argument, how he blew up at you and you threw a glass at you, and he told me that he kicked you out. He knows you're here, he figured that much out yesterday when Tara insisted he talk to me. He says he's incredibly sorry, he doesn't know what came over him and that he'd like to talk when you're ready. I advised him to let you come to him, that you were still recovering from the ordeal and that you were safe where you are. I also may have told him that if he ever treated you like that again I would put him in jail, even if it was just for 24 hours. Then I told him to pack up some clothes for you because you weren't ready to see him yet. I hope I wasn't out of order saying that?"

You shook your head, assuring him that he wasn't. 

"Y/N, are you going to see him?" Emily asked. 

You were silent for far too long, thinking. 

"Y/N! You're not... you're not thinking of going back there?" 

"I.... I don't know. He's... He's my husband."

"One that you're not happy with. One who kicked you out of the house because you made a mistake. He had no reason to be that angry with you over that."

"No," you agreed. "But in the grand scheme of things, he has plenty of other reasons to be angry with me."

"You're defending him?" Will asked, slightly shocked. 

"It sounds like it doesn't it?" It was almost like you had had an epifany. "I'm not defending what he did to me. All I'm saying is..... with everything we've done to each other over the years, one of us was bound to crack sooner or later. There's a lot of anger and resentment between us for various reasons. I dealt with it by drinking and shutting my self off. He... I don't think he ever did deal with it. Things build and build. Something had to give eventually."

"You're making excuses for him Y/N," Emily stated, her arms crossed over her chest. 

"Perhaps I am. Perhaps I'm making excuses for myself too. I'm not.... I'm not going back to him the way things are. And I don't think that things will change between us. I don't think there's anything between us that can change. But.... I'll hear him out. Mainly because I want to find out what was in that box that was so damn important to him to trigger that much of a reaction. Not yet though. He can wait."

... 

The rest of the week continued on, you simply plodding onwards not really having any idea what your plan actually was. The day after Will's visit, Emily was slightly less chatty towards you than she had been and you got the impression that she was unhappy with you for saying you were going to hear him out. The next day though, she seemed fine with you. On Friday Emily had to go to an event she was catering and although she asked if you wanted to tag along, you couldn't see how you could be any help to her. Your hand was healing well but you couldn't cook and couldn't really do any heavy lifting for fear of splitting the stitches. On Saturday, Emily and Tara had an old friend's wedding to attend, leaving you in the house pretty much all day. That suited you fine, you'd been made to feel more at home and welcome in their home than you had in the Reid's home. You raided their dvd collection, spending the day not being productive at all but rewatching movies that you hadn't seen in years. 

At around midnight, not that you realised it was so late, the front door opened and loudly shut again, accompanied by loud giggling and shushing. As the girls passed by the sitting room, Tara trying to tell her partner to be quiet or she'd wake you, they both realised that you were very much still awake already. Emily broke free of Tara who had been herding her up stairs, bounding into the room and flinging herself at you, wrapping her arms around your neck. She stank of booze. Tara stood in the doorway, laughing at the amused and shocked expression on your face. 

"Y/N! Y/N Y/N Y/N!" Emily was giggly and sloppy, nearly rolling off the couch as she straightened herself back up. "Do you know... DO YOU KNOW.... how much I love you already?? I was saying to.... I was telling Tara... My beautiful baby Tara, God she's so sexy isn't she?.... Anyway... I was telling her that you're my little sister!! Not actually my sister cos... well you know... Although my mom's a bitch so for all I know I might have one out there.... Anyway! You're like my little sister! I just wanna... I just wanna protect you! And love you and be your family. Is that okay? Is that okay that I've only known you for a few weeks but I want you as my sister? Is it?" 

She stared at you, her eyes so wide and her expression so earnest. You were somewhere between wanting to laugh at how drunk she clearly was, cry at how sweet her words were, and also wanting to push her away because she really was very close and she really did stink like a brewery. In the end you nodded at her. 

"I'll be your sister Emily." 

"See! I told you she'd want to be our family!" 

"Excellent dear.... Now, let's get you to bed and leave poor Y/N alone." Tara pretty much dragged her off you, hauling her to the door and up the stairs, incoherent drunken rambling coming from Emily still. Your film still had around forty minutes run time left so you remained downstairs, suprised when Tara reappeared fifteen minutes later. 

"Drink?" she asked you. 

"Erm... Just a small one if you're having one." Since you'd been here you had attempted to cut down, only having a glass when the girls did. Tara disappeared and returned after a few moments, handing you a glass and sitting in the chair off to the side of you. 

"How you doing anyway?" she asked you. 

"I'm... I'm good. I think? Thank you again for letting me stay here Tara...." Although Tara had been nothing but welcoming and lovely to you, it had been Emily who you'd spent the most alone time with and you felt slightly on edge. She waved your thanks away. 

"Don't be silly, you're welcome here as long as you want to be." 

You could sense there was more and you were right. 

"She gets it you know? So do I.... Why you're thinking of going back." 

"I'm.... Only to hear him out." 

Tara smiled somewhat sadly and nodded. "Sure. Only to hear him out. Of course. You know... When Emily was in college, she dated this guy called Ian. He was a nasty piece of work, he'd hurt her, physically as well as emotionally. It took her three years to finally end it with him. He kept begging for her to come back, telling her how much he loved her and wanted to take care of her, that he'd change. And she kept going back. Do you know why I think that was?" 

You shook your head and Tara continued, choosing her words carefully. 

"Because of her mom. I know she told you about Elizabeth Prentiss. Yes, her grandmother loved her and raised her the best she could, and she's turned out to be the fantastic woman that I know and love. But her mom just leaving her, turning up every so often when she wanted to, that left Emily with an inherent need to be cherished by someone. To be loved and adored. She hardly knew her mother and her mother refused to tell her who her father was. She craved something, something that Ian Doyle was giving her in his fucked up way. And for three years she let him treat her like shit because he was telling her what she needed to hear. That she was needed, that she was wanted. Obviously eventually it got too much and she left for good and she does now have some form of a relationship with her mom. She had questions which eventually, her mother answered. Mostly."

"Why are you telling me this Tara?" 

"Do you want my honest answer Y/N?" 

You did and told her so. 

"I think you know why, really. My darling Emily may see people a lot clearer than I do sometimes but I work with facts. And the harsh fact is that a mother abandoning her child at a young age can have a knock on effect. Add to that the remaining parent developing alcoholism and dying, and then that same person experiencing the loss of the love of one of the only other people they had left from their childhood, well, that's enough to fuck anyone up. I think that Spencer could only.... " she paused, thinking, before deciding that no choices of words would be worse that the other, "...manipulate you because he was offering what you had missed out on. Love and security. I think your mother leaving you without any indication of why, is what started this whole sorry cycle for you."

You were silent, taking in everything she had said. She hadn't meant it to upset you. And she was a medical professional. She spoke again. 

"I think you'll go back to him. At least this time. I think it will take more than this episode to make you leave even though it's what you want. I think you need him to leave you and not the other way around, because you feel like that's what everyone else has done. And I understand that and so does Emily. Our door is always open to you Y/N if you do go back. Please don't just stay there because you think you have nowhere else to go. I also think that you have deep seated questions that you need answering."

"And how do you suggest I answer them?" 

"Try to find your mother Y/N. Find out why she left. If you answer those questions, I think everything will become a lot clearer for you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay in updating, it's take longer than I hoped to write each chapter so we may be looking at every few weeks rather than every week. I hope you all still stick with me!


	19. Chapter 19

Your mind was in overdrive after your conversation with Tara, and the more you thought about it, the more you realised that she was right. Your father claimed to have no idea why your mother had left you, and your aunt, her only sister, claimed to have no idea where she had gone. In the years between then and now you had thought about her, a lot more than you actually realised. She was always in the back of your mind somehow. Because if mother is God in the eyes of a child, why weren't you just as important to her? Her leaving you, abandoning you at seven years old had driven your beloved father to his death. It HAD caused you to cling to Derek because he was all you'd had left from your childhood. You wanted to know why? Why bring someone into this world and then just leave them? Did she not know what that had done to you? What it had turned you into? 

But, when all of that was said and done, your mother, your father, Derek, they were all the past. And yes, you had questions, questions only Amanda Y/M/N could answer. But you had no idea where she was, if she was even still alive, and last time you had attempted to search for her online, your efforts had been fruitless. So right now, you boxed thought's of your mother back up, and stacked them precariously in the corner of your mind, ready to be reopened at another time. 

... 

When you ventured downstairs the next morning, Emily was slumped at the kitchen table, sunglasses covering her eyes whilst Tara stood by their large stove, the smell of bacon sizzling in the air. 

"Morning Y/N," Tara greeted you brightly. "You want some? There's plenty to go around?" 

You nodded enthusiatically, grabbing a cup of coffee and pulling up a seat. Emily jolted and you realised she may have been dozing. 

"Uuughh," she complained, causing you to giggle. 

"Feeling a little delicate?" you asked her, noticing how pale her skin looked. She nodded and then clutched her head in despair, whining loudly. 

"That's what happens when you drink two and half bottles of wine to yourself...." Tara chastised her playfully, setting down three plates. 

You all dug in hungrily, Emily stopping every few moments and swallowing hard. You suspected she was trying to stop herself retching, a sensation you remembered all too well before you had become accustomed to poisoning your liver regularly. 

"I'll take another look at your hand later, Y/N. We should be able to take those stitches out." 

Emily gagged. "Please don't talk about stitches. I'm already sensitive enough." 

"That's what happens when you drink two and a half bottles of wine to yourself," Tara repeated her words, winking at you. 

You laughed and then decided there was no time like the present to mention something that had been on your mind, especially with Tara saying she should be able to remove your stitches later. 

"So....do either of you know anywhere in town that's hiring?" 

Tara's eyebrows raised and your saw Emily's forehead move, imagining she was doing the same behind her glasses. 

"Depends what you're after really, and what your skill set is," Tara replied. 

"Anything. Aaaaand, I don't really have a skill set. I dropped out of college and haven't had a job since I was 19. I'm handy with a paintbrush though," you offered. 

Tara thought carefully for a moment and you could tell she was trying desperately to think of a job that she could offer you in her practice. Emily beat her to it. 

"You can waitress right? You mentioned you worked in silver service when you were in college? Or am I making that up...." 

"No, I can waitress." 

"So come work with me then. I can always use a hand when I'm catering the smaller events." 

"You don't really have the much need for a waitress though, Emily." 

She knew you were right and she also knew that you knew she was trying to create a position for you. 

"Alright... There's an events company called You've Been Served that specialises in providing waiting staff for large events. They cover quite a large radius though so you might have to drive. I'll write you a reference, saying you've done a few jobs with me. I have their number somewhere." 

"That could work. I'll give them a call." 

"Oh!" Tara exclaimed suddenly. "I just remembered, when I passed Al's the other day, he had a sign for a waitress. It's probably more regular hours too. And Anderson's a sweetheart, his pancakes are to die for." 

"I'm too hungover to even argue with you," Emily grumpily said. 

"Who's Al?" you asked. 

Tara chuckled "It's a place called Al's diner, it's a little way out of town but it's a nice place. It's actually run by a guy called Grant Anderson, his great granddaddy was Al. Emily went to school with him. They're closed for the next few days because the family is out of town but Emily could take you by later in the week." 

"That I could do, if I'm not dead by then. I feel like someone has reversed over my head repeatedly." 

"That's what happens when you drink two and a half bottles of wine to yourself," you told her, Tara holding her hand in the air and you high fiving her. 

... 

An hour later and the three woman had relocated to the living room. Tara and Emily were on the couch, Emily's head in Tara's lap, and you were curled up on one of their chairs. Sunday morning TV was playing in the background, you all staring intently at the screen but none of you massively paying attention. 

The front door sounded and Emily groaned, realising she'd have to move. 

"I'll go," you offered, standing up and stretching. 

"What if it's...." 

"Then I'll just shut the door in his face." 

It wasn't Spencer, it was Luke. 

"Y/N! Hey, I was just stopping by to.... well to see how you were doing. How's the hand?" 

You waved it at him, only a light gauze pad covering the cut now. "Still there. Tara says she can take the stitches out later so that's good." 

You looked passed him to his car, seeing a German Shepherd with its head hanging out the window. 

"You have a dog?!" you'd always loved dogs but never been allowed to have one. 

"Oh yeah, Roxy's my best girl. We were just heading out for a walk, there's this great trail outside of town. Hey.... do you wanna maybe... join us?" 

It was a perfectly acceptable offer for one friend to make towards another. Except you and Luke weren't really friends. You barely knew each other really. But what you did know, you liked and there was really only one way to make new friends and that was to spend time with them. 

"Oh! Yeah... That would be nice. I think Will bought my sneakers with him, lemme go check and grab a jacket." 

You left him at the door, hurrying up stairs to the guest bedroom and digging out your sneakers. You searched the bags for a jacket too, not really finding anything. The last few days you've been living in either one of Emily's sweatshirts or the hoody from Luke, so grabbed that, hoping he wouldn't mind that you still had it. On your way back out, you popped your head around the door to the living room, telling Tara and Emily where you were going and then rejoined Luke outside, hopping into his car. 

"Well that's nice of him," Tara commented as she heard you drive away. 

"Very nice of him," Emily replied with a certain tone to her voice that Tara recognised. 

"Em.... She's married." 

"Not happily though...." 

"Luke wouldn't pursue a married woman like that." 

"Perhaps he doesn't realise that's what he's doing." 

"Or perhaps he's just being a good person and checking up on her, and you're reading too much into things because you don't want her to go back to Spencer." 

Emily ignored her. 

... 

Your afternoon with Luke had been more enjoyable than you'd expected. Initially you said yes because it had been a few days since you'd been anywhere, and you'd get to pet a dog at least but you'd actually enjoyed his company. He was easy to be around, talkative without being intrusive even though you knew he must have had questions about the state of your marriage. You also learned some interesting things about him to, like the fact that he was divorced. 

It came about quite casually, you were walking through a stunning woodland area, Roxy trotting obediently besides her master. 

"She's so well behaved, how long have you had her?" 

"I've had her for three years, needed someone to keep me company after the divorce. I raised her from a pup as well, although would you believe she's a rescue dog? Someone left a box with her and her brothers in at the side of the road." 

You frowned slightly, both at the disgust that someone could be so cruel to animals and at his mention of divorce. 

"You're divorced?" you had to ask, suprised. 

"Yup, three and a half years now." He glanced at you as you walked. 

"How long were you married for? Forgive me for saying but you don't seem old enough to have been married and divorced for three years." 

"I could make the same comment amount you Y/N, not seeming old enough to have been married for four years.... I'm 29, me and Ashley were married for five years." 

You did the math. "But then you would have had to have been at least...." 

"I'll save you the headache Y/N. I was eighteen. Ashley and I, we were childhood sweethearts, we grew up next door to each other and she was everything to me. We got together when we we're fifteen. When we graduated we both got into different colleges in different states and Ash.... well I guess she got paranoid about what would happen with us being so far apart." Luke stopped to throw a stick for Roxy, her running off and bringing it back between her teeth. She dropped it at your feet instead of Luke's and you tossed it again for her as Luke continued. "That summer it suddenly became so important to her that I prove my commitment to her even though I'd never done anything to make her doubt it. And I wanted to make her happy so...." 

"Let me guess, with Vegas being so close...." 

Luke nodded. "You got it. We ran off together, got married, narrowly avoided being murdered by our parents because of it, then we went off to college, separately. When we both graduated, we got a small apartment together and quickly realised that in those four years we'd both changed and that we couldn't stomach living with each other. We tried but when it's not right, you just know, right?" 

You knew. 

"So we filed for divorce, went our separate ways. Ash is now engaged to some high profile broker in Vegas and I'm doing what I love and have Roxy. It was all very amicable. We made a mistake, we realised, we dealt with it." 

"I wish I knew how to deal with mine," you muttered. 

"Yeah... I wasn't going to ask but...." 

And so as you both tossed sticks for Roxy the whole sorry story came out again. Or at least an abbreviated version of the story, but the main points were explained. As you finished you both stopped in front of a stream, Luke not looking at you but staring straight ahead. 

"I have to ask, if only because I've had my own failed marriage at a young age. Do you love him?" 

"I..... It's not that simple." 

"It really is Y/N. And if your answer is that you don't know, then you don't. Trust me on this." 

You stared down the stream watching the water flow, taking a branch along with it. 

"You might be right. But for me, it's not that simple." 

A change of subject occurred pretty swiftly and within a few minutes you were laughing at a joke he'd made, the profound deepness of the earlier conversation forgotten. It was an enjoyable afternoon and when he dropped you back off, you felt relaxed and happy, something you hadn't felt in a while. 

... 

The next day you were in the house alone again, Emily catering a function that evening and being on site all day. You woke up, made yourself a breakfast and was contemplating looking for that number Emily had mentioned when your cell phone started to sing, an unknown number flashing up on the phone. 

Spencer had tried calling and messaging you a few times, you mainly ignoring him and responding once to his texts with "I'm not ready to talk yet." Everytime he tried to call though he'd always displayed his number so you didn't think it was him. Cautiously you swiped to answer, not speaking and just waiting. 

"Y/N?" A female voice greeted you down the phone, one you thought you recognised but couldn't be sure. 

"Yes, hello?" 

"Y/N, it's Jennifer. Listen... I wouldn't call you but I really have no other option. Henry's school have called. He's ill. Will can't leave work, I'm assisting with a delivery and we're short staffed so I can't leave. I was wondering if you could fetch him?" 

Oh. She wanted your help. Which meant Spencer still hadn't said anything. 

"Where's Diana?" 

"I thought Spencer would have told you, she's out of town visiting friends for a few days. Do you think you can help or not? It would be doing me a huge favour otherwise I've got to ring around parents of his friends and I really don't have time. Please?" 

Jennifer Joy saying please to you was something you didn't think you'd ever hear. 

"I can collect him. But..." a sudden thought occurred to you. "It's probably best I take him to your house, where he'll be comfortable. Our house is still such a mess." You weren't risking Spencer coming home and finding you there. 

"I suppose you're right. We have one of those rocks in the back garden, with the concealed compartments? Henry knows which one. I'll call the school and put you on the list of people okay to collect him." 

"Wait! I'll need a booster seat won't I?" 

You heard her mumble the word fuck to herself and then there was silence as she tried to think of a solution. Recalling Luke having a booster in his car, for his young niece he'd told you yesterday when you'd asked, you told her not to worry, you'd sort it. 

"Thank you. I'll call you later okay?" 

You quickly got dressed and texted Emily and Tara telling them where you going, before setting off, Googling the zip code for the school and entering it into the GPS. When you arrived, children were playing in the playground meaning it must have been recess. You found the reception and told them who you were and the receptionist led you down a short hallway to the sickbay where you could see a forlorn looking Henry holding a cardboard sick bucket in front of him. Luke was sat by side, rubbing his back gently. 

"Hey Henry," you crouched down to see his eyes were rimmed red from crying. "I'm here to take you home buddy." 

"I want my mommy, where's my mommy?" You got it and weren't the least bit offended. Whenever you were ill as a child it had always been your mother that you'd wanted, although after the age of seven you had to make do. 

"I know kiddo, but she's gotta help bring some babies into the world so you get me instead. I know I'm not the same but let's get you home and into your jammies and then we can watch your favourite movies. Does that sound okay?" 

Henry reluctantly nodded, realising you were the best he was going to get. 

"See, Y/N's going to take super good care of you." Luke looked up at you, double taking when he realised you were in his hoody once more. It had been the first thing you grabbed this morning. 

"I promise I'll wash it and give it back at some point." 

"You know what, keep it. It looks good on you." Something crossed his face that you couldn't read but you were in no position to try to decipher it. You quickly remembered your other problem. 

"Erm....I don't have a booster in my car, and I know you do. I don't suppose there's any chance...." 

"Of course! Lemme just grab keys from the classroom and I'll get it for you." 

Ten minutes later and Luke had installed the booster, you promising to return it in a few days. 

"Feel better soon Henry, we'll miss you in class." He turned to you. "You ever looked after a sick kid before?" 

"I haven't ever babysat before at all...." 

"Well it's probably a good job he's sick then. He'll more than likely just crash out when you get him home, but make sure to keep a bucket pretty close by. Give him plenty of water, even if he brings it back up again, and then try him on some dry plain snacks like saltines or dry toast." 

The bell rang and Luke looked at you ruefully. "I gotta get back. I'll speak to you soon." 

You drove Henry home, remembering the way and only taking one wrong turn. Henry found the rock with the key and once you got inside you helped him change into his pajamas and settled him on the couch, bringing his comforter downstairs for him. Hunting around the kitchen you found some bottled water and some crackers which you set out, and then you settled in for an afternoon of watching Disney films, Henry dozing on and off with his head resting on your lap. Jennifer called you mid afternoon to check up, telling you she'd be home around four having found someone to come in early to cover her. When she arrived home she found you consoling a distraught Henry who'd vomited again. You cleaned him up, hugging him and kissing his clammy forehead, tucking him back in under his blanket, his eyes closing almost immediately, barely even registering that his beloved mother was home. You took the sick bucket into the kitchen, Jennifer following you. 

"I'll do that," she offered as you started to swill in out. 

"It's fine, I've got it." You'd already done it a few times this afternoon so you were used to the smell. 

"Alright. Would you like a coffee, I'm making one for myself?" 

You nodded trying to be polite. Now she was home you really just wanted to leave, feeling incredibly uncomfortable in her presence. She poured you both drinks and you joined her at the kitchen table, noticing the curious look she had on her face. 

"Thank you for today Y/N. You helped out massively and you really are very good with him." 

You shrugged. "He's a good kid, and I really do like children you know." 

Jennifer pursed her lips and frowned, battling with herself internally before she obviously decided to just say what she was thinking. 

"I've got to ask. If you like children so much, why did you abort my brother's baby?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the lack of updates! This story is coming, just super duper slowly. I hope you're all still sticking with me!


	20. Chapter 20

"I've gotta ask. If you like children so much, why did you abort my brother's baby?" 

You stared at your sister in law, wondering if you'd heard her correctly. 

"What?" 

"Oh don't play dumb Y/N, Spencer told me about the abortion. Why did you do it, why did you get rid of his baby?" 

"I didn't." 

"So you're calling my brother a liar now? You didn't have an abortion?" 

"No. I did have one, not that it is ANY of your business." She hated you anyway, why not tell her the truth? "But it wasn't Spencer's baby." 

She sat wide eyed for a moment before her lips spread into a cruel smile. "So you had an affair then as well. God, you really are a bitch. How he hasn't he divorced you yet I don't know." 

"Well I've asked him to and he won't so perhaps you should take that up with him. And you know what? I know I'm a fucking awful person, I don't need you to tell me that. But he isn't that much better. You think your darling twin is so perfect? What the hell was he doing sleeping with one of his students in the first place? What the hell was he doing convincing that student to marry him when all she wanted was help with a termination? He begged me to marry him Jennifer! Begged me! And I had nothing alright, I had nothing left and no one to turn to so I said yes! You've judged me since day one yet you know absolutely nothing about me or how I came to end up married to your brother, aside from the pretty little story he's spun for you. And think about this? Spencer can't have kids naturally, you all know that! How did you think I was suddenly pregnant?" 

"I just... I just... I thought you'd had IVF. He told me he'd frozen samples, so I just assumed that you'd..." 

"Yeah you assumed. Just like you assumed when you met me that I was the one trapping him. I heard you talking to him about me. I heard the things you said about me. You know nothing about this Jennifer, nothing. Your darling brother is not everything he makes himself out to be." 

Jennifer sat there looking shocked at your outburst and quite frankly you were too. It seemed that perhaps you were finally finding your feet again, finally finding some of your backbone that had gone missing years ago. Jennifer thought for a moment, her mouth opening and closing a few times before she finally spoke again. 

"So tell me then Y/N. If I know nothing, if what Spencer has been telling me, what he's been telling my family, is wrong, tell me the truth. Tell me YOUR truth." 

You were conflicted. On one hand, why should you tell her everything? She had you pinned down as a money grabbing, baby killing bitch already, was your story really going to change her mind? But on the other, what if it did? 

So for what felt like the hundredth time in the last two week's, you opened up. You told her pretty much everything you had told Emily and Tara, your voice cracking in some places but you remained composed. You watched her face change from curious, to perplexed, to downright confused, regret and then finally concern. For who you wondered? It seemed somewhat amusing to you that for someone who had closed them self off for years, you were now telling anyone who asked it seemed. And really, you shouldn't have been saying half the things you were saying to your husband's twin, but yet you were and you found that you didn't care. Spencer clearly already hated you already, so so what if she ran and told him of your conversation, of the things you'd told her. What was he doing to do? Nothing. There was nothing else that he could do. 

By the time you had finished her face was paled and she lowered her head into her arms momentarily. You waited, unsure whether she was going to blow up at you or not. Finally she spoke, looking you directly in your eyes. 

"I am so sorry. Everything makes so much sense now." 

"Does it?" you asked, unsure exactly what made sense to her. 

She nodded. "I never got the impression that you loved my brother. My mother told me I was wrong and to give you a chance but I knew what I sensed from you. I just.... I thought it was you that had trapped him, not the other way around." 

Wait. "So you believe me?" 

"I shouldn't, because you're contradicting almost everything Spencer had told me. But yes, I do. How withdrawn you were at your wedding, it should have been the happiest day of your life but it was a means to an end. You married him because of what he could give you... " 

"You're saying I used him?" 

"Not in the way it sounds. Y/N, I know how persuasive my brother can be when he wants something, he offered you security for you and your baby. And if everything you're saying about your family is true, and considering no one from your side of the family was at the wedding so I have no reason to doubt that, then.... well I know many people that if they were in the same position, they would have done the same thing." 

You couldn't quite believe how easily she was accepting this all and how she wasn't turning into a screaming banshee. Had she heard it all correctly? 

"Jennifer, I had an affair. I cheated on your brother." If anything was going to rile her back up, it was that. 

Except, she just shrugged. "You had an affair with the man who broke your heart when you were 19. The man that pretty much pushed you into Spencer's arms. Pretty stupid yes, but heartbreak does stupid things to people. And.... you probably did the right thing in terms of ending that pregnancy too." 

You were dumbfounded, unable to understand the complete 180 in her attitude towards you. 

"I terminated that pregnancy out of spite. Derek didn't want me, he just wanted the baby and I didn't want Spencer to have it, to hold it over me forever." Your voice was cruel and it was almost like you wanted her to hate you still. 

"No you didn't Y/N." 

You raised your eyebrows in surprise. "Yes I did!" 

"No. You didn't. Nobody as good with kids as you are would end a pregnancy out of spite. With everything you've just confessed to me, it's quite clear that you ended it because you didn't want to raise a child in what would inevitably be an unhappy home. You didn't want to put a child though the same sort of heartache you went through." 

Her voice was soft and her words hit somewhere deep inside of you and without even realising it, you began to sob. Huge, racking sobs that left your throat raw and your eyes puffy. You don't know how long you cried for but what you do know is that Jennifer Joy LaMontagne, the sister in law that up until today had hated you, moved from her seat and wrapped her arms around you, smoothing your hair and whispering soothing words to you, exactly how you imagined she would do to Henry. 

When you were finished, you pulled away from her embarrassed and she sensed it, moving to the counter and pouring you a glass of water. You gulped it down thirstily, not meeting her eyes. 

"I've got a good mind to go and have a long chat with my brother." 

"No! Jennifer, please..." 

She sat back down at the table, not responding to your plea but asking a question. "Are you sure you're okay with Tara and Emily?" 

You nodded, praying she wasn't going to suggest you come here instead. Luckily, she didn't. You suddenly had a thought, a question you wondered if she could answer for you. 

"Jennifer, do you know what was in that shoebox? What was so important to him? I know it was letters to your dad, but I don't know what about." 

She shook her head sadly. "I wish I did. Spencer was... he was a lot closer to our dad than I was. I know my father loved me and I loved him dearly, but he and Spencer just seemed to have this extra special bond that wasn't there for me. Maybe it was the creativity thing, the writer genes. But then, I'm closer to mom so it never really bothered me that much. If I knew what was in there that caused such a reaction, I'd tell you, I honestly would." 

You sat in contemplative silence for a few minutes before you glanced up at the time, realising how late it was. Your sister in law followed your eyes, jolting with surprise herself. 

"I should get some dinner on the go and check on Henry. Do you.... would you like to stay?" 

You thanked her but told her no. You wanted to get back to Tara and Emily's. She asked if you'd be available tomorrow if it wasn't too much trouble to watch Henry again. She didn't want to send him to school with a tummy bug, just in case. You assured her it was fine, agreeing on a time for you to be there with her walking you to the door. 

"I am really sorry for how I've treated you Y/N. It was really uncalled for, especially the remarks I made at dinner the other night. And for what it's worth, I hope you and my brother can somehow work things out. I know my mother really likes you, as do Will and Henry. And I think that maybe.... maybe now I'm not acting as the wicked sister in law, maybe we could be friends too." 

"Thanks Jennifer. That would be nice." 

"Please... Call me JJ." 

... 

After an extremely long conversation with her husband, where some harsh words were exchanged but ultimately she understood why he hadn't said anything to her and had forgiven him, JJ found herself taking a longer than normal lunch break and taking a trip to the university campus where her brother worked. Spencer looked extremely suprised to find his twin sitting in his office when his classes ended. 

"JJ!" he frowned when her saw that she did not look happy. "Is something wrong?" 

"Not with me, no. You however, you my darling brother, are a different kettle of fish altogether." 

"Huh?" 

"You need to sort your sham of a marriage out." 

He looked affronted, his eyes darting quickly around the room. 

"I don't know what you're talking about." 

"You can fool mom, Spencer. You even had me fooled. Buuut, Henry is ill. And you know who I had to call yesterday to help me out?" 

Spencer closed his eyes slowly and opened them again, knowing exactly who she was going to say. 

"Y/N." 

"Yup, that's right. And we had quite the heart the heart. How dare you Spencer! How dare you make me believe that that girl aborted your baby?" 

"I.... I...." 

"Don't even try Spence. She told me everything. From how you met, from her asking you for the money for a termination and you begging her, pleading with her for her to marry you. She told me about the affair as well and while yes, she's less than innocent there I can understand why she did it. She told me she asked you for a divorce to and you refused. Why? You two clearly aren't compatible? Let her go." 

"I can't! I can't alright!" Spencer threw his hands up in the air before slumping down into his chair. 

"Why not? If she wants it...." 

"I still love her okay! And I don't want a divorce, I don't want to have a failed marriage under my belt, especially not when I can't have children naturally with anyone else." 

JJ shook her head in despair. "She doesn't love you, you know that right?"

"Of course I know that. I've known that since I met her and she reminds me often enough. It doesn't matter though, she's everything I wanted in a wife, or at least she was. But I'm not throwing that away yet."

"Yet you threw her out? What was in the box Spencer? What was so important to you that you threw out the woman you claim to love so much?" 

"You wouldn't understand."

"Try me," Jennifer implored of her brother, unable to see where his head was at right now, unable to see where it had been for all these years. She thought she knew him but she was beginning to doubt herself. 

"I... I can't. No. I can't... I won't tell you."

"Then tell her. You claim to love her but your words clearly say to me that you just don't want to start over again." Spencer went to protest but she held up her hand, continuing. "But if you really do think that you're still in love with her, and you really so want to save this, tell her what it was. Beg her forgiveness, and fix this mess you've created for yourself one way or another. And if you can't fix it, let her go."

"If she really wanted to leave, she could leave. She's halfway there anyway, she's out of the house and she's not taking my calls or my messages."

"You threw her out remember! And she can't divorce you, how the hell would she pay for the lawyers, although at the minute I've got a half a mind to give her the money myself."

Spencer narrowed his eyes at his twin. "You wouldn't."

"You don't know me as well you think you do just like I clearly don't know you as well as I thought I did."

His jaw dropped and he looked momentarily concerned. "You.... JJ, you wouldn't. I'm your brother."

"And you're stuck in a marriage that is toxic for the both of you, why can't you see that!!! Either fix your marriage, or end it permanently and give the girl her freedom. Or I will help her, and that will cause a rift between me and you. And do you really think mom needs that??? Her two children, the only thing she has left, no longer speaking to each other? Do you really think mom needs to know everything Y/N told me? Everything Will told me.... about Elle Greenaway, about dad covering your mistakes up at the college?"

Spencer's eyes widened as his twin sister who had always, always had his back, walked to the door, turning back to look at him like he was stranger. 

"Fix it."


	21. Chapter 21

You spent Tuesday and Wednesday looking after Henry at Jennifer's.... JJ's request. By the time Wednesday afternoon rolled around, he was much brighter looking, had managed to eat two full meals, and was bouncing around the living room when his mother returned from work. 

"Back to school for you tomorrow I think, little man!" JJ ruffled his blonde hair and he giggled. 

"Well, just call if you need me okay. I've got a meeting tomorrow but I can always reschedule." 

"A meeting?" JJ raised her eyebrows questionably, although unlike the other times in the past you didn't feel like it was meant cruelly. 

"A job interview. Kind of. It's just at this diner Tara and Emily know of, outside of town, Al's? I feel like I need to do something with my days and start earning a living or something." 

"Oh! Well good for you, Y/N. And Al's serve great food, their pancakes are to die for." 

You grinned. "So I've heard." 

"Have you ever.... have you ever thought about going to back to school? Finishing your degree?" 

Shaking you head, you replied. "No. I could barely afford college the first time around, it was only thanks to the scholarship that I could go." 

JJ pursed her lips thoughtfully. "You know, if it was something you really wanted to do and you and Spencer DO sort things out, he'd help you pay for it." 

He would and you knew that but you wrinkled your nose. "I wouldn't even know what to do. Writing was the only thing I was ever any good at and I haven't done that in years. And if I did ever go back, I think I'd like to fund myself rather than relying on other people." 

JJ nodded, accepting your words. You stood, making to leave. 

"Stay, please. If you don't have any other plans this evening, stay and eat with us. Will will be at work late tonight and cooking for you is the least I can do to say thank you for watching Henry." 

You were going to protest but saw something in her face that made you stay. She was trying with you, trying to be your friend or perhaps just your sister in law. But after all the animosity between you, it mattered. So you stayed for another two hours, eating a home cooked meal with her and your nephew after texting Emily to say you'd be home later. As you left, JJ reached into her purse, pulling out a bundle of bills and pressing them upon you. You shook your head vehemently. 

"JJ, he's my nephew. I was happy to watch him." 

"I know. It's been three full days of your time though and if I'd have taken leave or had to pay a child minder it would have cost me a lot more than this, trust me."

"Honestly JJ, it's fine."

She kept holding her hand out, not moving it away. "Please Y/N. Buy a new dress or something, or take Tara and Emily out for a meal."

You wondered whether the money was her way of trying make up for her behaviour towards you in the past, and eventually you reached out and took it, noting there was around two hundred dollars there. You'd add it to the money you had stashed in your make up bag, left over from phone shopping, and maybe you would do what she'd suggested and take Emily and Tara out. Hopefully if tomorrow went alright you'd be earning a wage soon and could offer them board money for letting you stay, although you doubted they'd accept it. 

"Alright fine. But I'm taking it under duress. And call me if you need a sitter again and Diana isn't available. I like watching him, he's a great kid."

"I will do. And good luck for tomorrow."

You said your goodbyes and started making your way home, or at least to what had come to be your temporary home. The streetlights were starting to come on, the sun disappearing for the evening. You wanted a long hot bath and maybe to share a glass of wine with the girls. 

That wasn't to happen though. As you pulled into their driveway, there was another familiar car parked up and you could see the shape of someone sitting on the bench on the porch. Someone who you weren't quite sure you were ready to see yet. 

He stood as you pulled the car to a stop and you were in two minds whether to just drive away, but then you realised; you couldn't run from him forever. Especially not with his twin sister, his brother in law, and three other people in the town knowing what was going on between you two. 

No, you needed to face him. See what he had to say for himself. 

And come up with something to say for yourself. 

It was time to face your husband. 

Locking the car you stepped towards the porch, Spencer's eyes on you the whole time. You approached him tentatively, not knowing what you were going to say. As you got nearer to him, the front door opened and Emily and Tara stepped out. 

"Do you want us to call Will, Y/N?" Emily asked, giving Spencer the side eye. 

"No it's fine. I'll speak to him." 

She went to ask if you were sure but Tara jumped in, somehow knowing that you had made your decision and that Emily need not push you. "We'll be right inside. Call if you need anything." With that, she placed her hand on her partner's arm and steered her back inside, closing the door behind them. 

You looked at your husband, taking him in. He looked tired, stubble covering his chin and the bags under his eyes were deeper and more prominent than normal. Had he been worried about you or just worried for himself? 

"So?" 

"Can we go inside, sit somewhere and talk?" he asked, sounding more nervous than you'd heard him in a while. 

"No. I'm not inviting you inside somewhere that isn't my home. Because I don't have a home remember? You threw me out. If you wanna talk, we do it out here." You approached the wooden bench and sat yourself down on it, feeling like for the first time in years you somehow had the upper hand. He followed suit, sitting back down on the other end. 

"I am sorry about that Y/N. So very sorry. I was just so...." he broke off, pushing his hand through his hair. 

"So what, Spencer? I don't understand what even happened." 

"I was just... I've just lost my dad. And those things in the box belonged to him. I snapped okay? I've been under a lot of stress with the move, looking out for my mom, the new job. Not to mention how awful it's been between you and I recently. Will you come home, please? I just want things to go back to how they were before." 

You stared at him, wondering why on earth he would want that. And rather than pushing that thought to one side like you would have done in the past, you asked. "You want thing to go back to how they were? Spencer, we were miserable! You must see that? We were just...we were stagnant. How can you want that again?" 

"Because I want you! I love you Y/N, I always have. And I know you've never felt the same but I can live with that." 

"I... I can't though. You say you love me but you threw me out because of something that wasn't even my fault? You say you love me but you threw a wine glass at me. I had to have stitches Spencer. You say you love me but for the passed six months you've acted like I don't exist, and you know what? I didn't care. You don't love me, you can't love me. We have nothing in common, nothing binding us together. You shouldn’t love me." 

"But I do! My father always told me I should find a girl who could set my soul on fire with words and their beauty, and you do that!" 

There it was. That line you had heard from Spencer before. And that line that he had apparently said years before he even knew you existed, to another girl. You frowned. 

"Like Elle Greenaway could?" 

Spencer froze and you wondered how he was going to try and back track his way out of this. 

"You know about her?" 

You nodded. 

"I was young Y/N.... And stupid. I should not have pursued her the way I did. But you, you were different." 

"Because I was legal?" 

"What?!" he looked appalled and disgusted. "No. You were different because....because... because you needed me. You needed me as much as I needed you." 

"I didn't need you Spencer. I needed your money so that I could end the pregnancy, but you didn't want to give me that. And I was in that much of a shit hole that I let you convince me that you were my best option. I didn't need you then and I don't need you now. The only thing I need from you is a divorce..please." 

His face fell and his shoulders slumped, and he was silent for a few moments before finally speaking. 

"I can't do that. Not now, not yet." He thought deeply before taking a long breath. "Come home with me. Give me a year, let's try counselling first, and let my family deal with losing my father. If after a year you still want the divorce, I'll give it to you." 

A year. 12 months, 52 weeks, 365 days. 

Could you? Let his family deal with losing William before supporting him through losing you was essentially what he was asking. 

"Please Y/N. My mother thinks a lot of you. She always wanted another child and she was so happy when we married because it meant she'd have that in a way, another daughter, even if it was just by law. She always asked me about you when I'd speak to her, she always wanted to get to know you better and she never got the chance. She has that chance now."

An overwhelming sensation of guilt coarsed through you suddenly and you wondered if he wasn't just manipulating you. 

"Why let her get to know me if it's only going to be for a year?" you asked. 

"Because.... because.... She's fragile right now. We all are. My family can't deal with anymore loss, even if JJ and Will do know what's been going on between us. In a year, it'll be easier for everyone."

"But if I refuse to come back, you'll have to tell your mother eventually. She'll realise sooner or later. I might even tell her myself, tell her exactly what happened between us."

"Could you though?" 

He had you there. You couldn't tell her, you couldn't face destroying a mother's belief that her son was a perfect angel. Not when that mother was already grieving. And although Spencer would have to come clean, you'd no doubt have to face her as well, you couldn't afford to leave the town and you had nowhere else to go to even if you could.

"It's one year Y/N. If you're still not happy with our marriage after one year, I promise I will divorce you and I'll fund the entire thing."

One year. 

"I'm not saying yes. Not right now. I don't know if I can trust you enough not to throw me out again if I do the wrong thing." 

Spencer nodded. "I understand that. Can I explain though? It won't make what I did any better but... let me explain what was in that box." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a big ask but if you’re enjoying my content and you’re financially able to then you may consider buying me a Ko-Fi as a way of financially supporting my writing. Many thanks to you if you do, it means so much to me that anyone might enjoy my work enough to dontate to me
> 
> https://ko-fi.com/cherrywhisp


	22. Chapter 22

You wanted to know, you really did. But whatever it was, would it really excuse Spencer's behaviour that night? You couldn't see how it would, but regardless, you still wanted to know. You'd heard him out so far so you decided to let him talk. 

"Alright, what was in that box." 

Spencer hesitated, wondering how he could explain this to you in a way that wouldn't make you think less of his father. But JJ, the one person he thought had always had his back, her confronting him had shook him. His own sister, his own twin, had said that she would give his wife the money for a divorce unless his fixed things one way or another. Telling Y/N what was in that box, maybe it would make her realise why he had reacted the way he had.

"It was letters. Letters to my father from the love of his life." 

"Your mom?" 

"No. His old publisher's daughter. My father had an affair Y/N. An affair that lasted three years. My mom doesn't know, JJ doesn't know, but I found the letters when I was 12 and confronted my father about them." 

William Reid had had an affair? You'd always thought he and Diana had had the perfect marriage, Spencer had always said how much he admired his parents relationship? 

William Reid had had an affair and Spencer had known about it? 

"What... What did your father say?" 

"That he was sorry. He never meant for anyone to find out. That it was over already and he just kept the letters as a reminder. Then I asked him why? Why he'd done it? Why he'd cheated on my mom, the woman who had bore him two children?" 

"And?" You were on the edge of your seat now, like this was a soap opera story, a scene where all the secrets would be revealed. 

"He told me that I was too young to understand really, because I had never felt true love. He told me how much he did love my mother which was why he hadn't left her for this woman, that he wanted to keep the family together. He told me how mom had always supported his writing but that she never really understood it, because she wasn't a writer. That although she healed people, it was with medicine and that she didn't understand how powerful words could be. This woman, her name was Olivia, he told me that she understood him, because she was an aspiring writer too. And that her words were so beautiful that they could.... " 

You interrupted him, "... set your soul on fire?" 

He nodded, not looking at you. "The way she spoke about him in her letters, she adored him, worshipped him almost. She loved my father and he told me he how distraught he was when he ended it with her. He loved her too, more than anything, but he'd made a commitment to my mother, one he wouldn't walk away from no matter what. I listened to him talk about her, and I reread those letters over and over, and I kept them with me, swearing that my mother and sister would never find them because it would kill them to know. I was angry with him but.... " 

"He was your father. You couldn't stay angry for too long." 

"Yes. He was everything to me. I looked up to him and admired him and after replaying everything he'd said to me over and over again, I decided that when I fell in love, it would be with a writer. With someone who could understand the true power of words and how they could turn someone's world around if used correctly." 

Pieces were falling into place in your mind, explanations weaving them self together. There was just a missing piece to the puzzle. 

"Spencer, how old was this woman, and how old was your dad when it began?" 

He scrunched up his nose a little, thinking. "My dad was... 31, he said? And she... she was in college, working at the her father's firm on an internship. She must have been around 19 when they met? Why do you ask?" 

"No reason. It's not important." It was, it really was. But if Spencer didn't realise how much he was unconsciously trying to emulate and live out the life his father apparently wanted to live, then you weren't going to be the one to tell him. At least not now. 

"I know me telling you doesn't make up for what I did to you. And it certainly doesn't fix everything that happened before then. But I hope it at least makes you see why I was angry that those letters were destroyed. They were a huge part of my father's life, from someone who he shouldn't love but did." 

You were silent, taking everything in and processing everything he had told you. It didn't make anything better, not really. Did it make it worse though? Knowing that Spencer was the way he ultimately because of his father? Did it excuse his behaviour, knowing that there was a reason behind why he had coveted Elle Greenaway, why he had coveted you? 

No. 

But it did give you some answers. 

"Y/N, please think about coming home. I really think that we could work this out and I promise I won't ever hurt you again." 

Could you promise to never hurt him though? Could you go back to living with a man you thought loved you but really just loved the idea of what you were when you were nineteen years old? You knew that the answer to the first question was no, because even if you did go back to living with him, it would be for a year at most. He had said to give him a year and that he would give you the divorce if things weren't better. 

But if you wanted the divorce, did you really have any other choice? You couldn't live with Emily and Tara forever, and even if you got the job at the diner, it would take months to be able to afford your own place and years before you could afford to petition for a divorce. Eventually you knew that Spencer would have to tell his mother if you didn't return to the house and you really did like Diana. And she had been through alot with losing her husband, did you really want to pain her further for the sake of a year? 

"I'm not agreeing to anything right now Spencer. I've got a lot to think about." 

"But you are thinking about it, right?" 

Reluctantly you nodded and his face lit up at the notion that you hadn't written him off completely. 

"Thank you. Thank you so much. And Y/N, I know that you've spoken about our relationship to Emily and Tara, and I know that you've told my sister some things. I understand why, as suprised as I was when JJ confronted me yesterday. But please don't say anything about those letters. I can't risk my mom or sister finding out." 

"I won't." 

There was an uncomfortable silence between you both as you each tried to decide how best to end your impromptu meeting. Spencer seemed reluctant to leave so in the end, it was you that moved things on. 

"I should be getting inside. I've had a long day with Henry and I'd quite like a hot bath and a glass of wine." 

"Oh, yes. Of course. Well... You know where I am when you've made a decision." 

"Yes. I do." 

"I'll...be going then. Goodbye Y/N." 

"Goodbye Spencer." 

Almost as soon as you had entered the house an Emily and Tara ascended on you, both with concerned looks on their faces. 

"Are you okay? As soon as he turned up I wanted to call Will and get him to kick his...." 

Tara interrupted her partner, "... and then I reminded you that it's Y/N's choice whether she talks to him or not and that we are going to support our new friend no matter what. Remember... " 

Emily nodded glumly. "Yes, I remember. Y/N, are you okay?" 

They ushered you into the kitchen, a glass of wine already poured for you. 

"I'm okay. How long was he there for before I turned up?" 

Tara tried to bite back a smirk. "Well he turned up just before you texted and told us with you were having dinner with his sister." 

"And he waited the whole time?" 

Tara nodded. "Kinda wanted to see how long he'd hang around.... I was in two minds about us messaging you to tell you he was here but I convinced Emily that it was better to let you see him and for your gut reaction to take over? I hope I didn't force you into doing anything you didn't want to." 

"No you were right. If I'd have known he was here I probably wouldn't have come back until he was gone and just continued to avoid him. I guess I did need to speak to him at some point and it wasn't as bad as I thought it was." 

"So?" Emily questioned. "What did he say?" 

You sighed, wondering how to answer their question. You wanted to be honest with them, they had taken you into their home afterall. But a lot of what Spencer had talked about wasn't his secret to share. It would affect his mother and his sister too and you didn't want to risk hurting people unnecessarily, no matter how much you yourself had been hurt. 

"He said.... he said lots of things. Mainly how he wants me to come home so we can try and figure things out." 

"And?" Emily prompted. "You told him where to shove that idea right?" 

"Em...." her partner warned. 

"Not exactly." You watched Emily clench her jaw. "He said that if after a year I'm still unhappy, he'll give me the divorce." 

Tara took her lovers hand, her thumb stroking the skin soothingly. "And how do you feel about that prospect Y/N?" she asked you. 

"Right now, I don't know. He doesn't want to cause his mother any more upset right now and I understand that. And ultimately, what's one more year? And.... I can't tell you what was in that box because it affects his entire family but.... I have a little more insight into why he is the way he is.... why he pursued Elle and myself I mean. I am bothered by how convinced he is that he still loves me and that we can work through this though." 

Emily wanted to probe, you knew she did but she held herself back, taking a breath before asking her question. 

"Do you want things to work out with him?" 

The question should have been so simple to answer because you knew that you should have never been with Spencer Reid in the first place. And you weren't the girl you were four years ago, or even the girl you were two months ago. You'd had no one then and now.... now you had at least two friends that cared about you. Now you had a sister in law that had apparently confronted her twin, a brother in law who had had your back since day one and who had known that something wasn't right. You had now what you didn't have two months or four years ago. 

But wasn't part of that due to Spencer forcing you to come here? If you had never have come you wouldn't have got to know these people. If William Reid hadn't have died then you would be in your New York apartment, even further on your way to becoming your father. If you and Spencer divorced, could you stay in this town? The town where everyone knew each other? 

Things weren't going to change though. No amount of counselling could make you love Spencer Reid, although it could very well help him realise that he didn't love you either, that you were just a crutch to help him live out a life he thought he should lead based on conversations with his father and his father's sordid little affair. 

Just when you thought you knew exactly what you wanted, you were suddenly no longer sure. Being married to him was all you known for four years and it had lead you here, to these people. 

"I don't.... I don't want things to go back to how they were. And I don't want to hurt Diana anymore that what she's hurting right now. It's a year." 

"So you're going back." 

"I don't know okay. I just... I don't know. I don't see how I can't not go back."


	23. Chapter 23

That night you went to bed but you didn't sleep. Everything was milling around in your brain, all of the thoughts and feelings that had been disturbed within the last few weeks just wouldn't leave you alone. You almost wished that nothing had happened, that you and Spencer had just gone on living in your marriage that wasn't a marriage, both of you living your lives pretending that you were okay. Except now you knew that you weren't, although you'd really known that all along. You'd not been okay for a long time and that went much deeper than you marrying Spencer Reid, losing Lara, and everything that had happened since, not that you realised that at this time. No, that would take a while to resurface again, something that must be touched upon and dealt with in order for you to realise your existence and to truly move on. But that would come later. 

When the morning came you were exhausted, Emily coming onto your room as she had done most mornings with coffee, taking one look at your face and knowing. 

"Oh Y/N, babe. I'm sorry for last night. I just don't want you to...." she stopped, checking herself. "You'll always have a home here, no matter what. I may have been smashed out of my skull but I remember calling you my sister and I mean that. Tara and I can be your family." 

You appreciated her words, you really did even though you had no idea what reasons she had for feeling so close to you already. You wanted to change the subject though, to draw it away from last night and onto something positive and productive.  
   
"What time is my interview today again?" It was at 11am before the diner got super busy and you knew this but it was a change of topic. 

"Babe, it's hardly an interview. Grant Anderson will take my word and hire you. It's just a formality really. And it's at 11." 

"You can't just say he'll take your word though. It's been years since I've waitressed." 

"It's like riding a bike Y/N, trust me. And you said you did silver service right? Once you've done that, it's all ingrained."   
She grinned widely at you. "Now, pancakes? If you're gonna me working at Al's you're soon gonna learn that much to my deep distain, nothing beats his pancakes. So I want one last at attempt at making you think that mine are the best in town." 

"Sure Em, sure." You hauled yourself out of bed and grabbed your cell, noticing a text from Jennifer... JJ, wishing you good luck for today. You smiled and text back, thanking her, thinking how quickly your relationship with her had done a 180. 

After breakfast you agonised over what to wear, Emily telling you that there was no need to dress up because it was just Al's diner not some fancy restaurant in the big city. In the end you settled on smart jeans and a shirt, comfortable sneakers on your feet. Emily assured you that you looked fine and the Grant wouldn't care how you were dressed. 

She drove you there, pulling up outside of a pleasant looking diner only a few miles past the Reids house. She led you inside and you were greeted with a delicious smell that made your stomach grumble and your mouth water. The place wasn't too busy right now but if the food tasted as good as it smelt, you could bet it got a lot busier around meal times. 

"Grant, hey!" Emily approached the counter, greeting a friendly looking guy behind the counter. 

"Emily, great to see you." He turned to you with a warm smile. "And you must be Y/N?" 

You nodded, feeling slightly nervous. 

"So Emily's told me you're in need of a job and considering I'm in need of a waitress it seems we might be in a position to help each other out." 

"Yes Mr Anderson, that's right. Although I do feel I should be honest with you, I haven't worked in around four years. I mean I'll be a hard worker once I've gotten to grips with things and I'm sure it wouldn't take me long, but I just wanted to be honest." 

The man smiled again, reaching his hand out and touching your arm lightly. "Okay so firstly, Mr Anderson was my father, I'm Grant and my wife who's in the back with our darling but very demanding son, is Kate, you'll meet her soon enough. Secondly, all I'm after is a hard worker who has some experience. The locals around here are very forgiving and won't crucify you if you get their order wrong... at least not the first time," he laughed. "If you're willing to do the work them I'm willing to give you a try. You have Em's backing and that's a good enough recommendation for me." 

"Really? You're not even going to interview me?" you snuck a look at Emily who had a huge grin on her face. Grant shook his head. 

"Nope. We'll start with a trial period of say two weeks, and see how we go from there. Now, without wanting to seem like I offered you the job for this specific reason, I don't suppose you can start today, like say in ten minutes? My other day time waitress Erin has had to go home. Got a call from the school, her kid is sick as a dog. It's fine if you can't, it's a lot to ask I know." 

"No it's absolutely fine! Thank you. Do you have a spare uniform or...." 

"No uniform Y/N. The customers will know who you are from the apron. What you're wearing today is fine, I'm not particularly picky as long as you guys are comfortable and aren't dressed like you're on the beach." 

"Okay. Do you have somewhere I can leave my bag?" 

Grant motioned to a door to side of the counter. "Step on into the back and I'll give you a quick tour and a fresher." 

You glanced over at Emily, suddenly remembering she was your ride home. 

"Call me when you're finished. Either me or Tara will come get you alright?" You nodded at your friend, trying to ignore the nervous but excited feeling in your tummy. You were employed, you had a job. This was just another step in changing the person you had so easily allowed yourself to become. Another step in getting back... no, not getting back. There was nothing that you wanted to get back to. This was another step in moving forward with your life. To some people it would be nothing, a job in a small town diner, nothing to shout about. But for you, someone who had allowed themselves so easily to forgo everything, it was huge. 

Grant showed you around and introduced you to Kate who was tending to a very small child. She greeted you as warmly as her husband had and you felt almost immediately at ease. The till and kitchen set up were not complicated at all and once you'd taken your first few orders all your past waitressing skills came flooding back to you. You could do this, you'd told yourself. And you did. 

The next few hours you worked harder than you had in years. Your feet ached and your head was spinning with remembering the menu and table numbers but overall, you felt good. Kate had come out during the busier periods to help serve as well as help Grant in the kitchen and at just after four, a teenaged girl from the high school arrived. 

"I'm Hayley," she introduced herself with a grin, quickly dropping her bag around the back and grabbing an apron. Between you both you worked the diner during the busy dinner period, it finally dying down at around six thirty. Grant called to you through the serving hatch. 

"You hungry Y/N?" It was only then that you realised how hungry you actually were. You nodded in response. "Choose something off the menu and I'll call you when it's ready. You should have had an afternoon break earlier too so I'm sorry that didn't happen, I'm not a slave driver, honest. It should be steady going for the rest of the evening so you and H can get your breaks in and we can have a chat about your hours. You've done well today, I'm very impressed." 

You felt a light blush cross your cheeks at his praise and quickly turned away so he couldn't see, browsing the menu that you were sure you'd know off by heart soon. You gave Grant your order, just a burger and fries, propping yourself up on the counter and chatting as he cooked. 

"So normally we'd have had Erin with us today running the breakfast shift through til early afternoon but one of her kids was sick. I was left in the lurch a few weeks back when my other waitress, Maeve, left town barely giving us a days notice. We have Hayley and Jessica on alternate evenings during the week, they both come in Friday night as that's the busiest and they alternate Saturday nights off. Both are great girls, still in high school though so when it's quiet they'll sit at the counter with their homework. I ain't got no issues with you guys putting your feet up whenever it's quiet as long as the works being done. Normally I'd have Mateo with me in the kitchen but he's been out of town on family business, he'll be back tomorrow though. Kate will jump in and out when she's needed and when she's able to but she's got a her hands pretty full with the kids. We also have her niece Meg living with us who covers the breakfast shift at the weekend and will help out during the evenings if we're getting slammed." Grant served you up a plate of delicious looking food and you pulled up a stool to eat as he continued chatting. 

"Pay checks are every two weeks and your tips are your own to keep. You might find you don't get many tips from the locals but that's because I actually pay a living wage rather than expecting you guys to make it up and they know that." He told you the hourly rate and you were suprised and very appreciative. "The out of towners still tip though. There's four weeks paid vacation a year but I do ask for at least two weeks notice just so I can work the rota out and get cover. Monday through til Saturday we close at 9pm with occasional extended opening if there's a big game in the next town over. Sunday is 5pm closure, and we open at 7am everyday for breakfast." 

You were wide eyed as you stuffed fries into your mouth, savouring the taste. 

"It's hard work but I enjoy it, and I've normally got people I can call on if I need help. Last year when Kate's father passed away, Emily actually took over for four days and ran the kitchen. Now, the shift that I mainly need you for is 11am through til 8pm through the week if that's good with you? Occasionally I might need you to swap or cover the breakfast shift but I'll give as much notice as I can. On Saturdays it will change what shift I need you on and at the minute I'm still trying to get a full time waitress just for Saturdays as it's our busiest day. Ideally I'd give you weekends off if you're working all week or at least give you a day in the week in exchange. Sundays are usually pretty dead so we normally make do with just the family but if you want to work them, then Kate will always appreciate the time off. What do you think?" 

You swallowed the mouthful of burger you'd just chewed, taking it all in. It would be hard work and would take you a while to get used to but you needed the money and it seemed a nice place. None of the customers had been rude and if it winded down at the same as it had this evening then you reckoned you'd be able to handle it. "Honestly Grant, it sounds good to me. I'll take any shifts I can get right now and normally I'd have my own car so could always cover at short notice." 

"I'm super glad you've said that Y/N, because I already have a favour to ask. Erin needs to be off tomorrow as well so I don't suppose you fancy coming in for 7am. It'll die down around 10 for a few hours if you wanna grab a nap in the back for a few hours cos I'd need you until 8pm again. I'll throw in an extra thirty dollars on top of your hourly for it?" 

You told him that you'd do it and he let out a sigh of relief, leaning over the counter to call to Hayley. "H, you want your usual?" She looked up from the table she was wiping down and told him yes.   
"If you're coming in early for me tomorrow then once you've eaten, you can get off. I can call Emily and tell her to come grab you in thirty minutes if you like?" 

You were about to respond when a familiar voice piped up from the booth to the side of the counter. You'd heard the diner door sound not too long ago and H had stuck an order through but you hadn't paid attention to who it was. 

"I'll drop you home Y/N, if you like?" It was Luke, Roxy sat contentedly at his feet. "We're nearly done here." 

"Oh! Yeah sure, thanks Luke. I can get the car seat back to you as well." 

"Well you get off then Y/N and I'll see you bright and early tomorrow. Come round the back and one of us will let you in." 

Noticing that Luke's plate was now empty, you quickly took it from him, taking it into the kitchen and grabbing your bag . After calling out a farewell to Hayley you followed Luke to his car, Roxy sticking her head between the seats and trying to lick your face as you climbed in. You gave her a quick fuss and then buckled up. 

"So you working at Al's then now?" Luke started to pull out of the small parking lot, heading in the direction of Emily and Tara's. 

"So it seems! It was my first day today. Didn't expect to see you there though. You strike me as a home cooked meal kinda guy." 

"Do I?" Luke laughed and you couldn't help but laugh with him, his grin was infectious. "Roxy won't even eat the leftovers if I cook, I'm that bad. I blew a microwave up a few years ago when I failed to remove the foil lid from some take out. I vowed not to cook after that incident. Al's is literally five minutes from my house and Grant let's Roxy eat in as long as she doesn't bother anyone. Good to know I'll get to see you there as well now." 

You just smiled in response, feeling a furry snout resting on your shoulder. 

"So erm... How are things anyway?" 

"They're...." you hesitated somewhat, not knowing quite sure how to answer. "I don't really know how they are to be honest." 

"I remember that feeling. Even though mine and Ash's divorce was very amicable, there were months on the run up to it where neither of us knew whether we were coming or going. Like we both knew what was inevitable but we were still trying to cling on to something that wasn't there anymore." 

You found your self nodding, because he'd hit the nail on the head. Although you knew that there was nothing really there to cling on to, that you had no love for Spencer, there was a small part of you that didn't want to admit defeat which was stupid, you thought. So very, very stupid.

“He want's me to go back,” you blurted out. “Wants me to give him a year and try counselling with him. Say's that if after a year I'm still not happy then he'll divorce me and let me go.”

Luke's jaw clenched slightly and his tone was harsh, frustrated somewhat. “Let you go? Y/N, he doesn't own you, you do know this right? No man will ever own you and you should never give a man the power to think that they do. You're out of it already, you're out of the house, away from him like you should be.”

“I just.....” You knew you were making excuses now, excuses no one would understand because you couldn't reveal what Spencer had told you about his father, about the letters in that box. You couldn't reveal that as fucked up as it was, you now understood why your husband was the way he was and that in the grand scheme of things, it really wasn't his fault. 

“It's complicated, right?” Luke asked you, his voice softer than it was before.

You nodded. “The only reason I'm considering it is because of Diana. She's been through enough and supporting her son through a divorce is not something she needs right now. I haven't decided just yet but..... It's one year of my life, Luke. What's one more year if it keeps her from more pain?”

He was silent for a minute and you turned in your seat slightly to watch him. He slowly began to nod, a grimace of understanding crossing his face. “Diana's stronger than you think, you know? But....and as much as I hate to say this because I don't think you should even consider going back to that house, I understand your thinking even if I don't want to understand it.” He turned into Emily and Tara's driveway and slowed the car to a stop. “Do you really think he'd change though? Do you really think he could be someone you could love and stay with?”

You thought carefully about your answer. Perhaps with counselling Spencer Reid could change. Perhaps a professional could make him see how toxic and damaging his behaviour was, both to himself and to other people. But for that to happen Spencer would have to be honest about his father and given how long it taken him to open up to you about the fact that he knew about his father's affair, you really didn't think that would happen. And no amount of counselling could ever make you love Spencer.

“If I went back, I wouldn't be going back to try to save my marriage Luke. I'd be going back to save Diana more heartbreak than she needs right now. I'm not sure Spencer could change but I know this, I have changed. Just in the space of the few weeks I've been here. Him throwing me out of that house was the best thing he could have done because it's forced me to reassess. Marrying him pushed me into a shell, into just existing. I had no friends, no family, nothing, and I just accepted that was going to be my existence. Now though, I have Emily and Tara, I have Will and even JJ looking out for me. She knows Luke, she knows everything, I told her. And she was appalled at her brother's behaviour. As of today, I have a job. I'll work all the hours Grant gives me so that when the year is up, I'll actually be able to support myself. I'm different now. If I go back, it's on my terms and it's just for one year. And if it gets to the end of that year and he still refuses, I'll tell his mother everything. I don't want to hurt her right now because she doesn't deserve that but if he goes back on his word to me again, then I'll tell her.”

Luke's lips twitched and he seemed to be fighting back a grin, and you were too. As somber as the situation was, you realised that as you'd been talking to him, it had been with fighting spirit and passion in your voice, something that had been missing for so long. You glanced up to the house, seeing Emily stood by the window, the sound of a car pulling into their driveway obviously making her curious. Luke followed your gaze and laughed.

“Looks like Mom wants to know how your first day was,” he joked, the tense and serious atmosphere of only seconds ago now gone.

“I guess she does. Although in her own, very drunken words, she's my older sister. I better get going, early start tomorrow. Thanks for the ride.”

“No problem. Y/N?”

You'd just turned to open the door but paused in your tracks, turning back to look at him.

“You forgot one thing. You said you had Emily, Tara, Will and even JJ looking out for you. You have me too. I just want....Actually I need you to know that. Anytime, any place, if you need me, just call okay?”

Your cheeks felt suddenly warm and there was a fuzzy feeling in the pit of your stomach. Unable to think of the right words to say, you found yourself leaning across the centre console and brushing your lips across his cheek, murmering a thanks before hurridly leaving his car.

It was only as you entered the house that you realised your lips were burning


	24. Chapter 24

How Emily and Tara managed to sound interested as you told them about your first day waitressing you didn't know, but they managed it, both hanging onto your every word with huge grins on their faces. 

"So you think you'll like it there?" Tara asked, offering you a glass of wine which you politely declined, knowing you had to be up early. 

"I honestly do. Grant and his family are really nice and Hayley who I worked with tonight was sweet. It gives me something to do as well, takes my mind off of things and I can at least start saving and pay you guys something for letting me stay." 

"Don't be stupid Y/N, we're happy to have you here." 

"No seriously guys, I'm eating your food, drinking your wine, I need to pay my own way." 

Tara and Emily shared a glance before Emily relented. "Okay fine. Once you've been there a few weeks we'll sort something out. And on that note, here." Emily slid a key ring over to you, two keys hanging from it. "You'll need these if you're working, to let yourself in and out.  I got them cut earlier. They are officially your keys rather than the spare set." 

Keys to their house. It was such a small gesture but it made your tummy flutter. They trusted you enough to give you your own set of keys. Emily cut through your thoughts with a playful tone to her voice. 

"So we... was that Luke I saw dropping you off?" Tara nudged her harshly. 

"Oh yeah, apparently he's in the diner all the time and was just about finished so he ran me home." 

"He's such a great guy isn't he?" 

"Em...." Tara warned. 

"What?! I'm just saying Luke's great. You like him too babe." 

You weren't sure exactly what was going on between them but it was clear you were missing something. Still, you agreed with Emily. 

"He is pretty great. Really kind and just down to earth." 

"Pretty handsome too huh?" You watched Tara huff and roll her eyes at her partner. 

"Erm well... Yeah, he's pretty cute. Anyway, I'm gonna shower and get off to bed, early start tomorrow. Thanks for everything guys." 

"Night Y/N," they both replied as you left the room, absent-mindedly touching your fingers to your lips. 

"You need to stop," Tara berated her lover. 

"What? You didn't see what I saw. She kissed him goodbye Tar." 

"Wait what? Really? What sort of kiss?" Now Emily had her attention. 

"Well it was just a peck on the cheek but...." 

"For gods sake Em, she was probably just thanking him for the ride. Stop reading too much into it and pass the wine." 

... 

You worked through until Sunday, your feet and your back aching but you loved every second of it. It was strange, when you'd waitressd that first year of college you'd hated it, it being simply a means to an end. And you guessed that even now it was really just a means to an end, the money would help restore your life. But it was different now. You had a reason to get out of bed each day otherwise you'd risk letting Grant and Kate down. And the fact that you were being depended on, made you happy. 

The work was hard when the diner was busy, but when it was quiet you got to sit and chat. Hayley and Jess were both sweet girls working to save money for college, and Mateo was so full of life, always singing in the kitchen with Grant joining him which the customers loved. They were all a little family and they welcomed you with open arms. Erin was out for the rest of the week so you picked up her extra shifts, Grant and Kate making sure you got plenty of breaks and keeping you well fed and hydrated. 

Luke hadn't been lying when he said he was there most nights. You saw him everyday you were there although his timings differed depending on how late he'd stayed at the school, prepping for the next day. It transpired that Jess had a massive crush on him, her eyes widening when she saw you taking your break at his table and eating with him. 

"You know him?" she asked after he and Roxy departed for home. 

"Yeah he's a friend." 

"God, he's so dreamy. Are you like... dating him?" 

You laughed. "No Jess, I'm not dating him. He's a free agent." 

Although Grant and his family knew you were married to Spencer, you hadn't broached the topic with the two teens who worked alongside you. Grant had said that Spencer rarely came into the diner anyway, although JJ and her family were frequent visitors apparently. When Luke left on Friday night he approached you, Roxy standing obediently to his side. 

"I won't be in tomorrow, I'm having lunch with my cousin Penelope. I wondered if you were free Sunday though? I'm taking Roxy on a hike and thought you might like to join us." 

The offer sounded great to you and you agreed on timings for him to pick you up.   
When Sunday came around, the weather was miserable and you were sure Luke would call to cancel. When he didn't, arriving at the agreed time, Emily rummaged through her coats, pulling out a waterproof. The hike was an experience, one you wouldn't have expected to find enjoyable as you were wet and cold. But the company made it fun. Luke was easy to be around and conversation flowed freely and naturally between you both as you struggled to stay upright on the sodden pathways. Back in the car the windows quickly steamed up due to the damp conditions and Luke joked that, "People would think you'd been up to something else if they walked passed now." 

You blushed, your cheeks reddening even more when you realised Luke was staring at you. It had been long since you'd engaged in that "something else" that you couldn't even remember how good it could feel to have the weight of another person's body covering yours. 

The drive home was quiet and your eyes drifted shut as Luke navigated the damp roads, his stereo playing quietly. By the time he pulled into Emily and Tara's, you were asleep. 

"Y/N.... Hey, Y/N." Strong, warm hands gently shook your shoulders. You stirred, your eyes opening and seeing Luke's brown eyes staring into yours. His fingers moved to your face, gently pushing back the hair that had fallen over your eyes. They were so soft and warm, and for a second you couldn't helpful but wonder what they'd feel like on other parts of your body. You quickly shoved that thought away, embarrassed by it. You were married and even if you weren't, you and your life were a complete mess right now. No one like Luke would even consider getting involved in something like that. It didn't occur to you that Luke already had involved himself. It didn't occur to you that Luke was himself thinking how soft your own skin was, and how he was internally berating himself for having those thoughts about a married woman, however unhappy he knew you were in that marriage. He quickly shoved his own thoughts aside, making a joke to mask what would have been a tender moment had it been between two lovers. 

"Hey sleepy head. For a second there I thought there was something wrong with my engine. Then I realised it was just you snoring." He sat back in his chair as you quickly composed yourself. 

"I do NOT snore," you protested, unbuckling your seat belt and adjusting yourself. 

"Well it definitely wasn't Roxy," his eyes crinkled with laughter as Roxy perked up in the back seat at the sound of her name. 

"Then I suggest you get your engine looked at!" 

"Sure thing Y/N, I'll do just that. Do you know that in class tomorrow I'm teaching the kids about the Nile and how it isn't just a river in Egypt?" 

You laughed at his terrible joke and lightly punched his arm, gathering your things and getting ready to leave. A hot bath was calling your name right now and you couldn't wait to get out of these damp clothes. 

"I'll ask Henry to tell me all about the Nile then next time I see him." 

"You do just that." 

You said your goodbyes, thanking him for a lovely, albeit wet day out, and made your way into the house, greeting Emily and Tara quickly before making your excuses and heading upstairs to bathe. After a hot bath you wrapped yourself up in sweats and went down stairs where Emily had prepared a delicious feast. Once dinner was done the three of you ended up in the living room, Emily and Tara curled up together on the couch whilst you took the chair. Quickly losing interest in the film they'd chosen you picked your phone up, logging into the app you'd downloaded only yesterday evening. 

Being around high school girls had reminded you how so many people choose to project almost every part of their lives onto social media. The girls had been shocked that you didn't even have a Facebook, let alone a twitter or Instagram. 

"Where do you post photos to?" H had asked with a bewildered look as Grant chuckled at the exchange behind the counter. 

"I don't really take many photos?" Had been your almost confused response. Despite you not actually being that much older than the girls you worked with, the fact that you didn't partake in social media made you seem ancient to them.   
After the discussion continued for longer than it really needed to, you promised H that you'd at least consider Facebook again, she wanted to tag you in so many funny memes about waitressing apparently. That evening you had redownloaded Facebook. You'd deleted your old accounts when Derek had broken up with you and you left town with Spencer. You hadn't wanted to be able to check up on him or any of your old college 'friends'. Instead you'd managed a plight that not many people seemed able to do these days it seemed, remaining free of any social media. Mainly because in your numb and depressive state you hadn't wanted to see how perfect other peoples lives worth or be reminded of what you didn't have. Last night you'd made a new account, adding your colleagues at Al's plus Emily and Tara. Checking the app now you had friend requests from Will, Jennifer and Luke, and even surprisingly, one from Diana. You accepted them all, momentarily wondering if Spencer was on here as well as it would seem strange to his mother that you and he weren't friends, then you decided that it wasn't your problem to worry about. 

Although given what you'd been considering over the past few days simply to spare your mother in law more pain and heartache, perhaps it was. You clicked on her page, idly scrolling through her posts, mainly well wishers sending her love mixed in with the odd photo of Henry beaming up at the camera. Then you reached a post that hit you in the stomach and made the decision that you'd been putting off making for you. 

A few days after the death of William she'd posted a family picture from your's and Spencer's wedding with the caption:  
"It is often only heartbreaking circumstances that bring a family closer together. As devastated as I am to have lost my darling William, I am at least pleased to report that my son Spencer will be moving home. I'm so happy to have him and my beautiful daughter in law so much closer to me and I can't wait to spend more time with the woman who accepted my son as her husband."

You knew what you were going to do. You were going to go back to him.


	25. Chapter 25

You wanted to tell them both, to get it over with. You knew Emily would react and that Tara would reason with her and tell her it was your choice. And although you kept telling yourself that really, you had no choice, you actually did. You'd had choices all along, you'd just always made the wrong one which was why you were here. You knew you could stay with them, that Spencer would eventually have to tell his mother what had happened and that she would have to accept it, just like you knew that in a years time she would have to accept it. But seeing that post she'd made, how sweet she'd been about you even though she barely knew you, you wanted to give her that year. Just one year to get used to being without her husband and then she could support her son as he got used to being without his wife. You had a choice and whether it was the right one or not, you had made it. 

Making your excuses you headed off upstairs, quietly packing your bags and setting your alarm. Erin would be back tomorrow but Grant had asked you to come in for ten, just to help with a delivery that was due in. You wanted to be up early enough to tell them both before Tara went to work for the day. Climbing into bed you expected a sleepless night but instead sleep came quickly and deeply. Perhaps because you were set in your resolve this time. You knew what you had to do and you were prepared to do it and deal with the consequences. That's what being an adult was about right? Dealing with the consequences of your choices rather than running from them or hiding from them in a bottle of liquor. When the morning came you dressed for work and collected your bags up, hauling them downstairs to the kitchen with you, Emily's face turning pale when she saw them. 

"Y/N...." 

"I have to Emily. It's just one year, and it's for Diana's sake.". 

She echoed Luke's words from the other day. "Diana is stronger than you'd think Y/N." 

"She might be. But what about the rest of the family? Spencer and JJ have lost their dad, Henry has lost his grandfather. I may not be a huge part of their family but me leaving for good would affect them all, even though JJ knows. I might not love Spencer or even like him very much but.... I'm actually scared that if I force him into divorcing me right now, that it will break him." 

You hadn't expected the last sentence that left your mouth, hadn't even realised it was a concern until it had. But you knew that it was true. You were stronger now, you had the upper hand. You could deal with another year. 

Emily glumly nodded and Tara rested her hand on her partners, squeezing it lightly. You placed the keys they had given you on the counter, sliding them over. 

"Thank you both for everything you've done for me. I honestly don't know what I would have done without you." 

"Y/N," It was Tara who spoke this time. "Keep the keys. If he ever hurts you, yells at you, makes you do anything you are uncomfortable with, come here. Anytime, night or day, that room will be ready for you. Do not think you don't have anywhere to go." 

Knowing that if you spoke you would be more than likely to cry, you picked the keys up again and dropped them into the your bag. Emily smiled gratefully at her lover, before she swiped at her eyes and hopped off her stool. 

"Right, none of us have to leave for work another hour or so, so let's have breakfast." 

... 

Work was long but still enjoyable. Kate had needed to attend a meeting at Meg's school which was why Grant had asked you to come in early. You helped him unload and packaway the delivery of new stock, him telling you where everything went and you mentally filing it away for the future. You finally met Erin as well, a middle aged woman who knew all the regulars by name and could almost always predict what they'd order. 

When Hayley came she greeted you with a high five. "See you decided to come out of the dark ages!" 

"Yeah well, just don't expect an add on snapchat or anything else. One step at a time." 

"Girl, you sound like my grandma." 

You whipped the cloth you were using to wipe down a table at her and she scurried off laughing. 

Luke appeared at around six and as it was quiet, you took a break, Grant serving up food for both of you which you took over, sliding into the booth opposite him. You ate in silence for a few minutes until he placed his cutlery down. 

"You gonna tell me what's up? You've not laughed at any of my corny jokes this evening." This was true, you'd tried to but the smiles you'd given him hadn't quite reached your eyes. For some reason you were more nervous telling him than you had been telling Emily and Tara this morning. 

"Remember that decision I had to make?" 

Luke locked his eyes with yours, his jaw briefly clenching. "You've made it then." It wasn't really a question and you both knew it but you nodded anyway. Luke's jaw remained clenched for a moment or too more and he seemed to be having an internal battle with himself before he was sighed. 

"Can I have your phone?" You frowned but didn't question him, quickly retrieving it from behind the counter and unlocking it before handing it over. Luke tapped away for a few seconds and handed it back, before pulling out a bunch of keys and fiddling with them before sliding one solo key over. 

"You have my number anyway but I've just saved my address in your notes. This is the spare key to my back door, take it with you. I know why you're going back and as much I hate it, I respect your decision and won't try to change it, but if he pulls anything like he did before, leave. It doesn't matter what time, leave." 

You were taken aback. In the space of a day you had two sets of keys given to you and assurances of places to go should you need it. You didn't reach for the key immediately and he pushed it closer towards you. "Take it Y/N, please. I'm sure Emily and Tara have probably done the same thing but I know I'll sleep a lot better knowing you have it. I just want you to be safe." 

You didn't hesitate this time, just picking it up and taking your phone back as well. 

"Have you spoken to him yet?" Luke asked, picking his fork back up and resuming his meal. 

"Have I told him I'm coming back? No. My stuff's in the car. The house keys are still on my key fob so I'm just going to go round after I'm finished here." 

"You sure about this?" 

"Yes. It's one year, that's it. And I intend on being out of that house as often as I can be to be honest." You made that decision earlier on today. "Working here will make that easier and then if I'm off at weekends, I'll find something to do." 

"Well I know that Roxy would certainly love your company on our Sunday walks if you needed something to do." 

Your reply was far more flirtatious than you'd intended it to be. "So it's just Roxy that would love my company?" 

Luke suddenly looked the coyest you'd ever seen him and you could have sworn there was a blush on his cheeks. "You know it's not just Roxy." 

Your eyes met across the table and you suddenly knew why Emily had been making comments about Luke before. A flutter in your tummy warned you to change the subject before you fell deep down a hole that you shouldn't be in right now. You partially listened to the warning, changing the subject to his schoolkids but knowing that you would make every effort to be there on those Sunday walks. 

... 

As you pulled into the driveway of the Reid house you gulped back the nerves that were threatening to explode from you in the form of bile. Stopping the car next to Spencer's, you repeated to yourself that was this your choice, that you had the upper hand here, and that it would not be like it was before. Finally satisfied that you had this in hand, you grabbed one of your large bags and left the car. 

When you unlocked the front door you heard a confused Spencer calling out "Hello?" his voice coming from the direction of the kitchen. You walked towards it, stopping in the doorway and seeing your husband sat at the table, takeout cartons in front of him. The expression on his features changed from confusion to elation as he spotted the bag in your hands. 

"You're coming home!" 

You need to get something straight. "No." 

"But.... The bag?" 

"I'm moving back in but this isn't my home Spencer. It's your home. I haven't had a home since I was eleven years old, not really." 

"Don't be silly, of course this is your home. I'm your husband, your home is where your husband is." 

Already you began to think that you had made a mistake, reminding yourself once more that this was for Diana. 

"Remember just before we moved here, when you told me your dad had died? You told me I was your wife on paper only and the only reason for that was because your mother liked me, despite barely knowing me, and you didn't want to hurt her anymore." 

His face fell, recalling the words he'd said to you. 

"I'm here because I don't want to hurt your mother. I don't want to hurt your family anymore than they already are, even if most of them already know what a sham our marriage is. You asked me for a year, so I'll give you that." 

He was quiet for a moment, cogs whirring in his brain. 

"Y/N, I may have said that, in fact I did say that. I've said a lot of hurtful things to you, but I don't want you to just be my wife on paper. I want us to get back to...." he paused, remembering your comments from your previous conversation where you had berated him for saying he wanted to go back to before. "I want us to be a husband and wife, I want our marriage to work. I love you, I always have from the moment I met you." 

"Spencer, a marriage only works if both people love each other, and even then it doesn't always work. We should have never been together, ever. The only reason I'm here is because I cannot afford to petition for divorce myself and because I cannot bring myself to hurt your mother right now. You need to understand that." 

He looked wounded but for some reason he wasnt going to give in. However awful he had been to you, Spencer still believed that he loved you and that you were what he needed. 

"Please. I can change, we can change. I'll find us a marriage counsellor, we can be happy together. You're everything I wanted, everything my father said I should look for in a wife I found in you."   
You doubted his father said he should find someone who would never love him but he continued. "Please Y/N. Please tell me we can try." 

He sounded broken, utterly despondent and nothing like that man who had thrown you out of the house only weeks ago. You shouldn't care how this was affecting him, how desperate he was becoming in front of your very eyes, how different he had become from the person that had bruised your wrists in a rage at this very same table. You shouldn't care. 

Yet you found yourself sighing. "Maybe. Maybe... Maybe things will change. I'm not.... I'm not coming back here to play happy families with you except around your mother. But... but maybe, being in each other's company again, maybe things will be different this time."


	26. Chapter 26

The bone you threw to Spencer was one that you regretted, letting him believe that maybe there was a chance. That bone made him pull himself together though and he stopped his pleading, wiping at his eyes with the backs of his hands and standing up from his chair. He moved towards you, his arms open as if to embrace you and you took a step back, his face falling again. 

“One step at a time,” you told him carefully and he nodded. 

“Do you have any other bags? I’m sure I gave Will more than this.“ 

"They’re in the car." 

"If you give me the keys, I’ll bring them in for you. Help yourself to some food." 

You handed the keys over, him looking curiously at the amount of metal adorning the key chain. 

"What are all these?" 

You could have said they were keys for work but you actually wanted him to know. Well, you wanted him to know some of it. 

"Spare keys to Emily’s and Tara’s. They wanted me to have them, just in case." 

"Just in case?" 

You stared him dead in the eye and watched as he became increasingly uncomfortable as you repeated your words, "Yeah Spencer. Just in case…..” letting them hang there. 

Almost sheepishly he left the room, disappearing outside to your car. Whilst he was gone you spotted a bottle of whiskey on the counter. Not your drink of choice but right now, you felt you needed it. Just being in the house, just being around Spencer made you want it. You poured a tumbler full, leaning against the counter top and waiting for him to return, which he did moments later. 

“Should I… should I take them upstairs for you?" 

"No it’s fine, I’ll take them upstairs in a moment. I want to get showered and settled in for the night anyway." 

"Oh,” he frowned. “I thought we could perhaps talk some more." 

Talk about what exactly, you wanted to ask, biting back the words as they bubbled into your mouth. Instead you replied with, "Well I’ve had a busy day at work and I’m tired." 

"Work. You’re working?” You were slightly suprised Jennifer hadn’t told him. You’d texted her to say you’d got the job and she’d responded say they’d drop by at some point to get breakfast. 

“Yes, I’m working. At the diner just outside of town." 

"You’re working as a waitress?” Try as he might he couldn’t quite hide the disgust that crept into his voice. 

“You’re the one that said I should get a job remember?" 

"Yes but… I meant something to do with writing… not…. waiting tables. Can’t you find something else?" 

You gritted your teeth, preparing to stand your ground. "I have a job waiting tables and I like that job and the people that I work with. It gives me money and a reason to actually get out of bed in the morning. I am keeping this job and will quite honestly be working all the hours that I can, because I need the money in case you throw me out of the house again. If you have an issue with me keeping this job, and come to think of it, any issues with me socialising with the new friends I have made, then let’s take a trip to your sister’s house right now, and you can tell your mother and your family that you’re divorcing me. Do you want to do that Spencer, because I’m ready to go?" 

His mouth opened and closed a few times at the realisation that you were serious. The backbone that you had grown was unnerving him as well as yourself, and whilst he was unsure that you would make him do that, he wasn’t going to risk testing you. After all, he was apparently still convinced that you were the one for him. 

"It’s…. it’s good that you have a job that you like." 

"And friends that I intend on seeing regularly….” you prompted. 

“Yes… Yes that’s good. You… you didn’t have that in New York, it’ll….” he hesitated. “It’ll be good for you." 

You nodded, satisfied with answer and no longer wanting to discuss it. You just wanted to get out of the room that he was in and go to bed. 

"Y/N…. Will you be able to come to dinner at JJ and Will’s Friday night? I was just…. I was just going to say that you were ill if you weren’t home." 

"One of my migraines that I apparently have so often?” You raised an eyebrow, enjoying the uncomfortable shuffle he did. “Tell them I’m working. Your sister knows about the job anyway. Sunday nights are really the only evening I’ll have free." 

"JJ knew?” Something inside Spencer seemed to crumple at that moment and you wondered if he was beginning to feel what you had for so long. Out of the loop and alone. 

“Yeah she knew. She probably… she probably just didn’t want to say in case you decided to try and see me there, and she knew I wouldn’t want that. In fact, I don’t want that.” You suddenly realised that you didn’t want him there. “Don’t come to my workplace Spencer. I know you don’t eat there anyway, but don’t come there, please. It’s…. it’s mine.”

His face was glum and his shoulders slumped. The joy that had been in his eyes, the hope that had surged through his veins when you had walked through that door was gone again. You had sucked it from him and instead of feeling joyful and pleased with yourself, you felt bad. Like you had kicked an injured puppy. And in a way, you almost had. Spencer was grieving still for his father, his whole family was which you were telling yourself was one of the main reasons you had come back to the house. He was hurting and you were hurting him further. And that bothered you. After everything it shouldn’t, but it did. 

“Look, Spencer. I didn’t say that to be mean. I just…." 

"I get it. It’s your safe place away from me. It’s fine. I won’t come to the diner and I’ll tell my family you can’t make it.”

You closed your eyes momentarily and threw him another bone. “If they arrange a meal for a Sunday night I’ll come to that. It has to be in evening though, I’m busy during the day.”

“Surely they have to give you one day off? That’s illegal to have you working everyday.”

“I’m not working, I just have plans on Sundays. With….” You couldn’t. You wouldn’t. There was nothing going on but he wouldn’t like it and you just didn’t want that fight right now even if you would simply threaten him with telling his mother. He was beaten down enough tonight and it would be like rubbing salt into an open wound. “Emily and Tara go for hikes on Sundays, and I started going with them. Fresh air and exercise, it’s good for me you know." 

"Yeah…. Yeah okay. Maybe… maybe we could go on one together one day?" 

You no longer hated him. You had more perspective on why he was the way he was and you felt sorry for him. You pitied him almost. Yes he was manipulative, yes he could sometimes poison you with his words, but inherently he wasn’t a bad person you didn’t think. He was hanging onto the idea of you desperately, and for now, for just a little longer, you decided you would let him. 

"Yeah sure, maybe.”


	27. Chapter 27

Over the course of the next two weeks you settled back into the house and life with Spencer Reid. Well, settled was not the best word to use as that would imply that you were actually settled and settled implied that you were happy. 

Which, you weren’t unhappy as such. You were in fact a million times better than you had been in almost the entirety of your relationship with Spencer Reid. You just, well, you were just waiting. Waiting for your one year to be up. And you knew that however short one year could be to some people, for you right now, it would be long. 

In the grand scheme of things though the atmosphere between you and him was improved. Perhaps because you were no longer sat at home, alone, and just waiting for him to return from work. During the first year of your marriage when he returned home to the New York apartment it was often to a newly repainted wall or ceiling, something you put effort and work into, and he was pleased with that effort and so were you. Once you had run out of the things to decorate though, your relationship had wained severely. As your mind was no longer filled with paint patterns and stencils it wandered. It wandered to Lara, to Derek, to your mother and father. And then you had become low and depressed, and Spencer’s evening chit chat about his day was no longer something you could smile and respond to, however boring you may have thought it was, it would actually irritate you. It had quickly become apparent that aside from your love of words, a lost love in your own case, you had very little in common, and even Spencer’s adoration of you couldn’t change that. And so the drinking had started, just a glass or three over the dinners you would share with him, just enough to stop you from rolling your eyes at him,with it gradually escalating to what it had ended up as. 

Now though, you were back to being busy, back to having your mind occupied with a job, with having a purpose. Due to your shift times he was often gone when you woke up, making yourself a quick breakfast and doing a few chores around the house before heading off for the day. When you returned in the evenings, he would be slumped over a pile of papers, sometimes in his father’s…. in his study, sometimes at the table in the kitchen, take out containers spewed over the containers. Most evenings you would make your excuses and disappear for a hot bath before falling into bed again but some nights, more nights than you would have even thought possible, you found yourself talking to him. Never for too long, the longest had been for around ninety minutes, him commenting about a lecture he was giving the following day an a book that he had covered when you were his student. The conversation had been pleasant, almost a reminder of the time when you could devour books and create worlds with your pen, a reminder that you had at least had that one thing in common. 

Some exchanges between you both were stilted, him not quite knowing how to ask you if you could run into town before work one morning to post something for him, you not quite knowing how to ask him what to do with some more of his father’s files that you had found. But somehow you both managed it, managed to actually communicate with each other without venom in your voices, without him looking at you with the distain and indifference that had been there for so long. This was progress, much needed progress. The only issue was that you were quite sure that Spencer saw this progress as a positive step into renewing your marriage whereas to you it was simply a means to an end. 

When the first Sunday after you had returned had rolled around you told Spencer that you would be out for the day, visiting Tara and Emily. He seemed disappointed but you reminded him that this was part of who you were now, you had friends and you weren’t intending on letting those friendships slip. And you did visit with them, for at least an hour before Luke came to collect you for your Sunday hike, not questioning the arrangement until you were out on the trail. 

“I can collect you from your house you know,” he tossed a stick for Roxy who bounded off to collect it. 

“I know. I’d just…. rather not deal with the questions it would raise.” 

“You’re allowed friends Y/N, and friends can be of both sexes.” 

“I know that and I know that Spencer would know that too but….after everything that happened with Derek I know that he would question it, and I just can’t deal with those questions right now. It’s just easier this way, trust me.” 

“I do,” he glanced over at you. “It just feels like we’re sneaking off though, like we have something to hide.” 

“I know, I’m sorry. I just don’t want to make things more awkward than they already are.” 

He dropped it after that and didn’t mention the arrangement the next Sunday when he collected you from the girls house, you studiously ignoring Emily’s questioning gaze when she commented on how much time you were spending with Luke. 

“I need to be home by around four today,” you told him as you set out together. “I’ve been invited for a family meal at JJ’s tonight.” 

Jennifer and Will had stopped by the diner the day before, chatting to you as you worked and generally just checking in on you. JJ seemed happy that you were home, you not feeling right to reveal that it was just for the year that Spencer had promised you. 

“Spencer said you have Sundays off, come for dinner tomorrow night. Mom would love to see you,” she asked you just before they left. Feeling that if you were going to live up to the facade you were projecting of still being somewhat happily married to Spencer, you agreed to go, Spencer being elated when you told him of the plan later that evening. 

Luke bent and unclipped Roxy’s leash, her trotting off a few paces in front. “Dinner with the in laws eh. And how are you feeling about that?” 

You shrugged. “We have to pretend things are normal for Diana’s sake and if that means plastering on a smile for a few hours then I’ll do it. I’m hoping that now JJ and I are friends of a sort then it won’t be as excruciating as the previous one.” You’d filled him in on Jennifer’s comments to you at the last meal during a previous conversation and he’d just shaken his head. 

“Well I’ll have you back in plenty of time and I hope it goes well.” With that the subject was changed from the Reid family as it now often was during your and Luke’s time together which was how you preferred it. Instead you discussed a film that had been playing last night which you’d actually managed to catch. 

When you arrived back home…. a word that didn’t fit right in your mouth but it didn’t make sensed to keep referring to it as Spencer’s home… you jumped in a hot shower, making yourself presentable and applying a few lashes of mascara and eyeshadow, and then finding an old lipstick and blusher you hadn’t used in years. When you were finished you were suprised at your reflection in the mirror. You’d gone without make up for so long aside from the odd flick of mascara and liner that it seemed odd to see your face made up. You liked it, you decided, the eyeshadow framed your eyes and made them look prettier you thought. Perhaps you’d try it out for work, you thought, then wondering if Hayley or Jess would think you were trying to impress somebody. Perhaps you were. Perhaps you just didn’t really realise it though. 

Spencer commented on how nice you looked when you made your way down stairs, dressed in a wool dress you had found in amongst your clothes. You politely thanked him, realising that he possibly thought the effort was for him and that that wouldn’t help things in the long run. 

All in all the family meal went a lot better than the last one. You were greeted with hugs from the entire LaMontagne family, an extra squishy one from Henry who would actually be eating with you this evening. 

“So I hear you’re working at Al’s now Y/N, how’s that going for you?” Diana asked you before taking a mouthful of the delicious lamb that Jennifer had prepared. You felt Spencer tense besides you, him still not happy that you were working as a waitress, not that it meant a thing to you. 

“It’s going really well. Everyone I work with is lovely and it’s great to actually be doing something again.” 

“Well good for you honey. They have the most amazing pancakes there as I’m sure you know by now.” 

You grinned and nodded at her, it was true; you had tried them and had to agree with everyone else. 

Henry gulped down his mouthful of food. “Do you see Mr Alvez there? He says it’s his favourite place to eat and that he goes there everyday.” 

Spencer tensed up again at the sound of Luke’s name and you saw both JJ and Will’s gazes flick between both you and he. 

“Erm, yeah. He comes in sometimes.” You didn’t dare look at Spencer even though you weren’t doing anything wrong. Luke was a friend, one of the few friends you had and who was one of the reasons you were actually getting on with your life. 

“Henry, why don’t you tell Uncle Spencer about the spelling bee you won the other day,” JJ intervened, sensing a change in the atmosphere. 

“Oh yeah! I had to spell alliteration!” 

The rest of the dinner went without a hitch but the drive home was silent and as soon as the door to the house was closed, he started. 

“So, you see Mr Alvez a lot. He’s been mentioned a few times as well I recall. Wasn’t he your knight in shining armour that day in the parking lot?” The accusation wasn’t even an undertone, it was there loud and clear. 

“Yeah he was. And he was the one who stopped his car to take me to Emily’s the night you threw me out into the rain.” 

“And he comes into the diner all the time according to Henry.” 

You wanted to eye roll. “And? He goes there to eat. People need to eat Spencer.” 

“I just think it’s strange that I’m hearing his name a lot. Is he someone I should be worried about? Is he going to be another Der….” 

“Do not start Spencer. I am not having an affair with Luke Alvez. You’re around females all day, students the same age I was when we got together. You don’t see me questioning that.” 

“Yes well, I’m not the one who had the affair….” 

“And I’m not the one who manipulated a 19 year old girl into marrying him,” was what you wanted to say but didn’t. 

“Spencer, he’s a friend just like Tara and Emily are my friends. He was there for me when I needed someone because my husband chucked me out and he’s continued to be there. I’m not going to stop being his friend. I know what happened in the past but you chose to continue with this marriage and you’re the one who keeps pushing me to continue with this marriage. If you cannot handle me having a male friend then we’re not even going to last a year. Shall I just leave now if this is how it’s going to be?.” 

A look of panick crossed his face and you knew you had him. 

“I’m…. I’m sorry. It’s fine, I’m overreacting.” 

“Yeah, you are. I’m going to bed, I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“Wait! Y/N! Erm… When do you…. do you think that maybe we could start sharing a bed again sometime soon?” 

Now? This was the time he chose to ask that question? 

“Honestly, I think we’re a long way away from doing that considering you don’t appear to trust me having a male friend. Goodnight Spencer.” 

You walked into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of vodka from the side board. You felt so drained right now, like he had literally sucked the energy right out of you. When you walked back to into the hallway he was gone, the door to the study open. You passed it on the way to the stairs, seeing him sitting at the desk, his head in his hands and a large glass full of amber liquid in front of him. It seemed that this evening had driven you both to the bottle. 

You entered your bedroom and chucked your bag to the floor, it tipping to the side with a clunk, your key ring falling out. Two sets of keys that didn’t fit the locks to this house stared up at you, a reminder that you could leave any time you wanted. You could grab your things and go now. 

But you didn’t. You stripped off your dress and climbed onto the bed in your underwear. Uncapping the bottle you placed the rim to your lips and drank, swallowing gulp after gulp until you could swallow no more. When you pulled away nearly half the bottle was gone. Your eyes watering and your throat on fire you laid back in your bed and waited for the inevitable darkness to hit. 

… 

You awoke to a loud knocking on the front door, something you could only hear as your bedroom was right above it. You squinted at the time, seeing it nearly 11am. Luckily you hadn’t needed to set an alarm as due to all the hours you’d been working, Grant had given you today off. 

You head pounded slightly as you sat up, the sudden movement combined with the alcohol making you light headed. The knocking persisted so you grabbed at your dressing gown, belting it around and making your way downstairs, ready to curse Emily who you were so sure it must have been. 

It wasn’t. When you pulled open the front door it was the Diana Reid, a bright smile on her face. 

“Y/N, dear girl. I’ve been promising to come and visit you for weeks and you mentioned you had today off so I’d thought I’d pop in. Have you had another one of your migraines?” She took in your dressing gown and your messy hair. 

“No… I mean… Actually no,” Why lie? “I had a little too much to drink last night after we got home and I’ve only just woken up.” 

“Well there’s nothing wrong with a tipple every now and then my dear, especially when you’ve been working so hard. Could I come in?” 

You’d been blocking the doorway without even realising and you moved aside, suddenly very aware that this was actually her house. “Yes of course, come  through to the kitchen and I’ll get the coffee on.” 

“Excellent.” She slipped her coat off and hung it on the hooks by the door. “I must say, I’ve been trying to find the right time to come and speak to you. I’d very much like to know what’s been going on between you and Spencer and I don’t really think he’s going to tell me.” 

“P-pardon?” You were taken a back by her words. 

“I wanted to ask about whatever little quarrel you had that made him throw you out? Although I am so very pleased to see that you’ve come back him.” 

Shit…


	28. Chapter 28

"I wanted to ask about whatever little quarrel you had that made him throw you out? Although I am so very pleased to see that you've come back him." 

Shit... 

Shit, shit, shit. 

Diana moved passed you and down the hall into kitchen. "Come along Y/N," she called and you reluctantly followed, wondering what on earth she knew and what the hell you were actually going to say to her. When you reached the kitchen she started pulling outmugs to make you both drinks. "Sit yourself down, I still know my way around this kitchen." 

You did as you were told, suddenly feeling sick to your stomach. The woman you were trying to protect from heartache knew something was up and she wanted to know what. After what felt like an age to you, your mother in law slid a cup of hot coffee across and sat down next to you. 

"My dear girl, there's really no reason to look so terrified." Diana reached out and patted your arm lightly. "You know, Y/N, one of the reasons that I'm here is the because I know you don't have any real family of your own. I know you lost your mother and father when you were very young. I want you to know that it doesn't matter that Spencer is my son, you're my daughter, even if only by law. But you can talk to me." She took a sip from her mug and you mirrored her actions. "You remind me a lot of myself you know?" 

Well that couldn't possibly be true. Diana was a strong woman, so very loving but independent and strong. "How so?" You managed to croak out. 

"Vulnerable. Easily led. Scared to do what's right for herself." She paused as your jaw dropped open. Those were not words you would even think of using in conjuction with Diana. "It's funny now once you recognise those traits within yourself that it's so easy to pick up on them in others. Even in the small amount of time I've spent with you I can see them in you. The only problem is, as you've married my baby boy it becomes an almost conflict of interests for me. But given what I've learned these past few weeks I feel that it's time that I do intervene, and offer an ear and some advice from a woman who wishes she had perhaps acted differently herself. If you'll let me of course." 

Diana's words weren't making sense to you right now. You were hearing the sounds she was making but the implication of what she was saying wasn't going in. 

"W-what have you learned?" You asked quietly, at least able to understand that you needed to find out what she knew in able to proceed with the conversation. 

"Firstly that my children think that I'm stupid, but then again my husband thought that I was so it's no surprise. They seem to think that just because I'm retired, that somehow means that I'm also deaf and blind." She took a sip from her mug before continuing."Jennifer never did learn how to whisper properly, it's a wonder that Henry is so good at hide and seek given how loud his mother is. I overheard her and Will talking on multiple occasions, mainly about how Spencer made you leave the house over some sort of box? Is this right my girl, did my son throw you out?" 

You closed your eyes slowly, thinking that perhaps when you opened them she would be gone and this would have just been a dream. When you opened them and she was still there you realised you either had to lie to her face, thus calling her daughter and son in lawliars too, or be honest. You nodded. 

Diana's face contorted and she picked up her mug before angrily placing it back down. She opened her mouth to speak and then closed it again before getting up and pacing around the kitchen twice, finally sitting back down again. 

"Y/N, I need to ask you some questions which I don't think you're going to want to answer. But, I've suspected that my boy may be more like his father than I've wanted to admit for a while now and I fear it may be getting to a point where we may no longer be able to help him. Will you answer my questions?" 

You didn't want to. No one wanted to bad mouth someone to their own mother. But what she'd said had made you curious. You nodded once more. 

"Darling, what happened? Why did he throw you out?" 

"I... I erm... There was a misunderstanding. I accidentally tossed something belonging to his father away and it upset him." Just saying that sentence outloud sounded ridiculous. 

"And...." 

"I stayed with Emily and Tara for a few weeks, and now I'm back here." 

"So you and he are working things out?" 

You nodded, tentatively. 

"Y/N, do you know what it was that you threw away? What caused him to get so upset?" 

You made to nod but stopped yourself. You couldn't tell her what was in the box. She watched you carefully and then nodded herself. 

"It's okay Y/N, I think I know. And if it's what I think it is then it explains an awful lot. You know, Spencer always idolised his father from such a young age. He loved me, of course he did, but it was his father that he looked up to most, his father he went to for advice and help. I didn't want to let it bother me, I had Jennifer Joy after all and we had that special bond that a mother and daughter do, but it did bother me." 

You wanted to speak, to respond to her in some way but you didn't know what she wanted you to say. As it turned out, Diana wasn't finished. 

"One of the reasons it bothered me is because Spencer idolised a man who wasn't at all what he claimed to be. I should have taken those children and left but I couldn't." 

And now she had your full attention. 

"You know, I've been avoiding coming back to this house. I knew I should have come to help you in those first few days, I knew I should have come to see you but once I'd left, I felt such relief. This house just reminds me of my extremely unhappy marriage and I'm starting to wonder if it's going to mean the same to you." Diana paused to take a drink and you finally responded to her. 

"I thought... I thought you were happy here? The way Spencer always spoke about you and his father..." 

"Spencer has trouble seeing what's right in front of him sometimes. He always has done. When he was younger he used to live inside the little worlds he'd created inside his head. I should be thankful I guess, that at least he doesn't remember his parents hating eachother. Jennifer though... She does remember some of the arguments, she's also unfortunate enough to remember her father disappearing into our bedroom with various women, not that she knew what it meant back then." 

Your mouth was hanging open and she chuckled at your reaction. 

"Not what you were expecting to hear is it?" You simply shook your head. "Y/N, William Reid was a serial philanderer. Throughout our marriage he had countless affairs, all with girls barely out of their teens. He had a type you see, young, impressionable girls, all who were fans of his work, a lot of them were aspiring writer themselves. I have no clue how many affairs he actually had, once he started working at the university he stopped keeping record of them." 

"He... he kept a record of them?!?" 

Diana nodded. "He was a writer my dear, he kept detailed accounts of all his sordid little affairs. It wasn't enough for him to relive them in his head, he wanted to read about them too. The journals are still here, they're in the attic." 

You did an extremely good impression of a goldfish for a few moments before finding words. "You knew about them though? And you still....." You stopped, suddenly realising that Spencer had done the same thing. He knew about your affair and he still stayed, nomatter how much you wished he hadn't. 

"Stayed? Yes, I stayed. I threatened to leave, to take the children, but I couldn't." 

You wanted to ask why but didn't feel able to. Asking someone why they'd stayed in a marriage when they were extremely unhappy was too close to the bone. Turned out you didn't need to ask. Diana was apparently on an honesty roll. 

"You see, around two months after the twins were born I fell down the stairs and badly broke my leg. It had to be pinned in two places and I was laid to be laid up in hospital for weeks. Because I had two young babies and I didn't want to be away from them, Iconvinced them to allow me to leave early. But the pain in my leg was awful so I got a prescription for an extremely strong painkiller, dilaudid. I.... well I'm ashamed to say that I took it for a lot longer than I needed to and a lot more regularly than I needed to. It became a crutch, one that William knew about. Working at the hospital, it was easy to get samples, or to get one of the other doctors to write a prescription for it for me. I realised it had gone too far when Jennifer tripped one day, she cut her forehead on the side of the dining table and needed stitches. I was so foggy from the painkillers I'd taken that I couldn't drive her to the hospital and I had to call a cab. I got clean, I went to meetings and now my only vice is a nice glass of wine everyso often. But William used that mishap against me. He knew I shouldn't have been on those painkillers when I was, knew that I was pocurring them through less than honest means and he knew that I had worked under the influence of them. It was only when I threatened to leave and he showed me all the empty pill bottles that he had kept that I realised how manipulative he was. He had stored them away for years, ready to use if he ever needed to. He could have had me fired, had my licence taken away from me, and a custody judge would not look favourable on me. He knew that and he made sure that I knew that. So I stayed. I stayed and I put up with it, plastering on a fake smile, pretending that everything was okay, even after the children left. Because it was just easier by that point, easier to continue with the lie." 

The magnitude of what she was saying to you was finally hitting. Her husband, who Spencer idolised, was a manipulative, philandering liar and she only stayed because he essentially threatened to ruin her and take her children away from her all because of a... well you couldn't really say mishap, drug addiction was incredibly serious as was alcohol addiction but she had sought help and gotten clean. Spencer had worshipped this man. It was now becoming easier and easier to see why he was the way he was. 

"It's easier to live a lie sometimes, isn't it Y/N?" 

She was speaking to you with a knowing tone to her voice. "Easier to stay with someone because you're scared, because you've been hurt by people before. Better the devil you know than the devil you don't right?" She paused for thought, not really expecting a reply. "You don't love my son do you?" 

You wanted to lie to her, to proclaim wholeheartedly that yes, you did, because that was the plan right? To save Diana the heartache of comforting her son when she was grieving for her husband. But apparently she wasn't even really grieving right now. And it seemed that she already knew the answer. So you answered. 

"No." 

"You never did, did you?" 

You shook your head, feeling very meek and very small. 

"I suspected as much. I also have a theory, one that as a mother I shouldn't have but seeing how Spencer has turned out makes question things. My theory is this, my son pursued you, showered you with praise much like my husband did with the girls who wroteto him and then no doubt later on, his students. In a moment of weakness, for whatever reason, you let him have his way and that resulted in Lara. I know your mom left when you were small and your father passed on so marrying Spencer was the better option at the time. How close am I?" 

You tightened the robe on your dressing gown. "It's almost as if you were there." 

"After Lara, you two stagnated, then there was Spencer's treatment, treatment which I know left him infertile, which when he then told me you were pregnant again the second time, I was suprised. So I did another bad thing Y/N." Your eyes snapped up to hers. "I checked your medical records to see if there has be any implantation, any IVF, and there hadn't which meant that you, had an affair. And that the baby wasn't Spencer's. Still close?" 

You nodded, feeling tears fill your eyes, still unsure why she here and what she wanted. 

"And then suddenly there was no baby." 

"I.... I...." 

"Y/N, I would have done the same thing given the chance. I'm not judging you. I should be based on how my own husband treated me, but I don't care that you had an affair or had an abortion. I don't care that you married my son out of convenience. What I care about is why you're still married to him if you don't love him? Why Y/N, why?" 

"Because... because he won't divorce me. He won't leave me.... He still thinks that we're perfect for each other because I'm everything his father told him he should look for in a woman. He won't let me go and I.... I...." 

You then realised what your ultimate crux was. You couldn't be the one to walk away. Everyone left you, you didn't leave them. You were the one who'd been abandoned by your mother, by your father, by Derek, not once but twice. You were the one who had been hurt constantly by people leaving you, your heartbreaking each time so deeply that you were actually scared to let it feel anything for anyone. That's why Spencer was so easy, you didn't love him so he couldn't hurt you, not really. But that meant you couldn't allow yourself to hurt him either and leaving him right now, when the man he adored was so recently dead, would hurt him. When he had thrown you out it had been different, but the moment he begged you to come back, the moment he pleaded with you to come back,you knew you would because otherwise you would have been leaving him. And you didn't do that. You didn't leave. 

Tears began to fall and Diana reached over and clasped your hand tightly. 

"I know Y/N, I know. I know how hard it is to walk away, I couldn't do it. I'm sorry I let my son become this way, I'm sorry his father got to him before I could. And I'm sorry he chose you." 

Everytime you thought you knew why you were doing something, everytime you thought you'd peeled the layers away and found who you were, there was another layer, another reason. Something else blocking you from doing what you should be doing. 

Diana scooted closer to you, wrapping her arm around your shoulder. "My darling, one thing I've learned in my life is that we all have a bottom we have to hit. At some point, we all fall down. It's how you get back up again though that matters. It's what you do after you've hit the bottom." 

She pulled back from you and looked you straight in your eyes, nothing but concern and motherly love in them. 

"The question is, what will you do?" 


	29. Chapter 29

“The question is, what will you do now?" 

That was the question indeed. One you’d been asking yourself for years. 

Your mother has left, what will you do now? Your father has died, what will you do now? Your childhood sweetheart, the person you thought you’d be with forever, has ended your relationship, what will you do now? You slept with your professor and now you’re pregnant,what will you do now? 

If you’d had the correct answers to any of those questions perhaps you wouldn’t be in this position and you told Diana that much. You told her how you didn’t know what to do with your life, how you’d never known. She stopped you mid sentence at one point. 

"Darling, you’re trembling. Let’s move to the living room and we can talk some more." 

She was right, you were trembling. Perhaps because it was cool in the kitchen and you were just a thin robe. Or perhaps it was because yet again, you were opening your heart and soul to someone who was little less than a stranger to you. You moved to the living room and you wrapped one of the blankets that adorned the back of the sofas around you, Diana sitting next to you once more. And then you spoke. She had opened up to you, spilling secrets that even her own children didn’t know so you did the same. You told her everything, about your first relationship with Derek, about how you and Spencer came to be, about how your affair and how since then you and Spencer had been living as a married couple but one who actually had no relationship with each other.You told her how you didn’t want to come here but you felt left with no choice. You told her about the night you ended up at Tara and Emily’s and how later Spencer had begged for you to come back. And then, you had no words left, no words to describe how exactly you’d felt over the last four years or so. No words could describe how damaged you thought you were. 

Diana was initially lost for words herself, her face as pale as Jennifer’s had been when she had learned your truth. She opened her mouth to speak and then stopped, collecting herself before trying again. 

"My son…..” she shook her head. “My husband has….” she stopped again. “Spencer…." 

Words weren’t coming from your mother in law so you tried instead, piecing together everything you had learned about Spencer. "Spencer idolised his father, a father who by your account was not the loving entity he should have been. The box I threw out was letters, letters Spencer later told me were from a woman his father loved, a woman that was his father’s ideal. Spencer told me…. he told me that I was everything his father said he should look for in a partner, although I’m really not sure what that actually means if that’s true. He’s… he’s hung up on his father’s words, on his father’s declaration that he knew he shouldn’t have had the affair but it was only because he was so in love with this woman. Yet none of it was true. Your son, my husband is hung up on a lie, and he’s determined not to let me go because of it.”

You wanted to be angry, to be angry at her for not leaving William when she had the chance, a chance that could have stopped Spencer turning out the way he had. You wanted to be angry at Spencer, for holding someone in such high regard that he would let it shape him so deeply. Mostly though you wanted to be angry at William Reid. That man didn’t deserve his children, he didn’t deserve his wife. He didn’t deserve the many women that had apparently thrown themselves at him. 

“That box, those letters Y/N.” Diana spoke finally. “That woman was the first, the first of many.”

“Spencer thinks there was only one. And he said that as much as he was upset with his father for doing that to you, he could understand it if he loved her that much.”

A moment passed between the two of you, neither knowing now what to say or do, until Diana spoke again. 

“Did Spencer ask you to come back to him because of me? Is that why you didn’t stay away?" 

You nodded slowly. "More or less. I didn’t want to hurt you either. And I can’t afford to divorce him myself. And….” You almost didn’t want to admit to her that you just couldn’t but you did. “I don’t think I can just leave. My mother left me, my father left me, Derek left me twice, my aunt cut all ties when I told her I was marrying my professor. Everyone leaves me…." 

"And you can’t see it being the other way around,” Diana finished your sentence for you, it seeming very much like she was inside your head right now. She mused internally for a moment, hesitating briefly before speaking again. “Y/N, what do you think would happen if Spencer were to discover the truth about his father?”

You thought carefully for a second, not aware of the undertones of her question. 

“I think… I’d hope that it would shatter his illusions. Maybe… Maybe it would make him realise that the way he views me, the way he views women, is wrong. Perhaps it would make him realise that I’m not the person he thinks I am and he’d stop holding on so tightly. And maybe he’d change.”

“I think so too. Y/N darling, you’re a beautiful, lovely, young woman, but you’re not right for Spencer and he’s not right for you. I think you should leave him right now and not look back but I understand that it’s not that easy. Some of us are a glutton for punishment and it’s very hard for us to break that habit. I’m speaking candidly and I hope you’ll forgive me but I think you both would benefit from talking to a professional, I’ve been seeing someone recently myself, someone who has helped me begin to recognise that Spencer is more like his father than any of us ever could imagine. I don’t think that Spencer would willingly agree to speak to anyone though because he doesn’t think that anything is wrong with him.”

You brushed aside her words about you benefiting from a therapist, it not seeming important to you right now. Aside from being married to Spencer still, you were getting back on track you thought. Instead you concentrated on him. 

“So how do we get him to see a therapist?” You asked. 

Diana bit her lip, something you’d seen both Spencer and Henry do when they were in thought. “We shatter his illusions. Or rather, you shatter his illusions." 

And there it was.

"You want…. You want me to tell him?! I… I can’t! It would ruin him!" 

Diana reached for your hands, taking them in hers and stroking them softly. "Y/N, you said yourself that he’s the way he is because he idolises a man who wasn’t real, not in the way Spencer thinks he is. If he finds out how manipulative, how awful his father actually was then yes, it will break him. But only briefly. He will put himself back together again, and in doing so he will release you from the bindings you feel you can’t just walk away from. And I get why you can’t just leave, I understand, I understand probably more than you think I do, trust me. And I know… I know I’m asking a lot of you but I can’t tell him myself, I can’t ruin the image his has of his father. I’m not sure he’d even believe me. But I can’t do that to him, he’s my baby boy. You though… You don’t love him, you said that to me. You could change him, for the better.”

You pulled your hands away from hers, ignoring the dejected look that fell upon her face. You couldn’t, could you. You couldn’t…. 

“I…. I…." 

"Please Y/N. You’d be able to leave with no guilt. He’d divorce you once he sees that he only fell in love with you because of some twisted ideal his father put in his head.”

“No guilt? I would be pushing a man to his rock bottom. You’d expect me to feel no guilt about that? I can’t… I can’t tell him.” No, it was too much to put on you. You would find another way to get out of this, to make him leave you. 

“If you can’t tell him, then show him. The journal’s are upstairs, they’re in the attic. If you found something belonging to his father, he would devour it. And they’re William’s words, he would believe them from him.”

“I…. I… This is your house Diana, but I’d like you to please leave.”

She slowly nodded and pulled herself upright, her face crumpling somewhat. You knew that what she was asking you was wrong, but you also knew she was right, that you were both right. Spencer needed to know about this in order to change. 

“I’m sorry Y/N, I’m so very sorry.”

She made her way to the door and you followed her, opening it ready to leave. She paused only when you said her name.

“Diana…. I’ll…. I’ll think about what you’ve asked of me.”


	30. Chapter 30

After Diana left your mind was in overdrive with all of the information she had given you and what she had asked of you. You paced the downstairs, moving from the living room, to the dining room, to the kitchen, feeling more and more suffocated by the second. Just being in this house, the house where all the deceit and lies had taken place, was making you feel like you were underwater, with no way up. That feeling, the feeling of drowning was one you’d experienced multiple times before in your life, and each time it always seemed easier to swim down, to let it cover you.

Not today though.

“Hey Emily,” you dialled your friends number, her answering quickly.

“Y/N, is everything okay?”

You steadied your voice as much as you could. “Yeah, erm. Would it be okay if I stayed over tonight? I just.. I just need to get out of this house for a while.”

You had keys, you could have just turned up. But that seemed wrong. Those keys were for if Spencer did something to you, and this time he hadn’t, not really. You just needed to escape this house, to get some breathing space, to just forget everything.

Emily assured you it was fine and you dressed and quickly showered, packing a bag. Not wanting to alarm Spencer you sent him a message. “Going round to Emily’s, will be back later.” You wouldn’t, you’d message him again telling him you’d had a drink and was staying over. You’d see him the following night. As you drove the roads to your friend’s house you couldn’t help but wonder why you weren’t driving further away. Why you weren’t leaving for good. Diana knew, everyone in his family knew that your marriage was essentially a sham. And Diana knew that her son was…. well, the only words you could thing of were damaged goods. Spencer had been damaged by his father. But then again you’d also been damaged by a parent, one that had left you and left you with so many unanswered questions which unbeknownst to you had left you with the inability to leave the mess of a relationship that you were in.

“Babe, has something happened?” Emily greeted you at the door, concern etched into her face. You wanted to tell her, to tell her everything but you didn’t feel like you could. It wasn’t your story to tell anymore, it was Diana’s.

“Yes and no. Spencer hasn’t done anything, I just… I can’t be in that house right now.”

She eyed you carefully, trying to figure out if you were covering for Spencer.

“Emily, honestly, he hasn’t done anything to me. We may have had a small disagreement last night but that’s not why I’m here.”

“Okay, I believe you. You know though…. you know you can tell me anything and it won’t leave me.” She led the way through to the kitchen where she’d been working, the smell of fresh baking in the air.

“I know, thank you.” You settled at her counter, dropping your bags to the floor and watching her begin to pack away her baking tins and ingredients. “Hey Emily, will you teach me? Show me how to make a cake?”

Her eyes lit up and she was momentarily distracted from trying to figure out what had bought you to her this afternoon. “I thought you’d never ask.”

…

Hours later and after following Emily’s instructions, you had baked and iced a two tier lemon cake. The cake itself looked and smelled great and you were very impressed that you had managed to produce that. Emily’s kitchen though… Even Sergio was covered in icing sugar, something Emily wasn’t quite sure how it happened.

“He normally hates the mixer and stays far away from it.” She shook her head and handed you a cloth, you both chuckling as you started wiping down the cabinets. “Did you wanna go grab a shower or something, you have cake batter in your hair.”  

You felt the top of your head and noted that you did, finding it hilarious. You grabbed your bags and made your way to the bathroom. When you returned, batter free, Tara was home.

“Y/N hey, Em tells me you’re staying with us tonight. And that you baked! Do we get to sample this creation later?”

Tara didn’t ask why you were there and you appreciated that. Instead she unloaded the take out containers she’d bought home with her. “Emily messaged earlier and mentioned you were here. I thought I’d save Emily the effort of cooking, especially after she told me you’d both been baking. Will you grab a bottle and some glasses Y/N, and we’ll start to eat.”

You ate and drank, both of your friends sticking to mundane topics and not mentioning any of the Reid or LaMontagne family. They talked about their work, about your job and how you were finding it, Emily briefly mentioned Luke and earned herself a glare from Tara. After two glasses of wine you messaged Spencer, telling him you were staying over and would be back the following evening, which you had every intention of being. You and the girls then moved into the living room, more wine being poured and a film being put on. The film didn’t take your mind off things though. In fact, the main protagonist had to make a decision. She knew something about someone which she knew would break that person if she told them and had to decide what to do, so your conversation with Diana remained very much at the forefront of your mind.

Perhaps a second and third opinion could help?

“Guys, what would you do if you were in Amy’s shoes?” You asked, naming the character in the movie.

Emily straightened up from where her head had been resting in Tara’s shoulder.

“Well, if she doesn’t tell her then Grace will never get a chance to find her real father and finding her real father means she stands more chance of getting the bone marrow. But if she tells her then she’s basically telling her that her mother has lied to both her and Frank for the entirety of Grace’s life and it could ruin her relationship with mother.”

Tara was more to the point. “Amy should tell her. Screw her mother. Her mom knows Frank isn’t her real Dad and knows who is. Grace needs the bone marrow and if Grace finds her real Dad, she might get it. She should tell her the truth.”

“Hmmm. Okay.” You took a sip of your wine and shifted in your chair.

“What about you Y/N. What would you do?” Emily asked.

“I…. I don’t know. It could ruin Grace. She thinks she knows who her father is and finding out he’s not who she thought he was could break her. It could make her worse as well right, the stress and anxiety of it all? But then again, if Amy tells her, it could help her get better. If she finds out her dad isn’t who she thinks he was then she could get the help she needs and it could change her. Maybe she could go to therapy? Maybe she’d realise how she’s….. ”

Emily and Tara both frowned and you realised you were no longer talking about the movie. Emily opened her both to speak but Tara jumped in first, cutting her lover off.

“Let’s watch the rest and see what Amy does.”

Amy didn’t tell Grace and Grace died, unable to find a bone marrow match. And then Amy sank into a deep depression over the loss of her friend and the guilt of knowing she could have saved her.

The three women decided that the movie was far too depressing and unrealistic and that they were going to call it a night. Just as you were climbing into bed there was a knock on the door and Tara poked her head around.

“Can I come in?” You nodded at her and she closed the door behind her. “I could be reading too much but I’m guessing you’ve found something out about Spencer and you don’t know whether to tell him or not?”

You bit your lip and nodded.

“Lies hurt people Y/N. You know this. They’re damaging. If you’ve found something out, something that could help in the long run, find a way to tell him. That’s my advice.”

“But what if it doesn’t? What if doesn’t change him? What if he blames me for ruining his…. Well just what if he blames me?” It would be so easy to spill everything right now but you couldn’t, you just couldn’t.

“And what if he doesn’t? What if what you know is the missing piece to a puzzle? What if you keeping it to yourself will hurt not only Spencer but yourself too? You have questions about your own family right? About why your mother left you? What if Spencer has questions too and what you now know, could answer those questions. Secrets and lies ruins people lives, perhaps not as extremely as we just saw in the movie but they do.”

Tara was right on all accounts and you knew it. Spencer had to know and you knew that Diana couldn’t be the one to drop the bombshell on her son. She had realised what a shamble your relationship was and knew that this was ultimately a win win situation. She could stop living a lie, Spencer would be hopefully have an epiphany and change his behaviour, and as a result, you would be freed from the family.

You had to tell him somehow. You had to tell Spencer about his father.

How though?


	31. Chapter 31

The next day you pushed everything that had happened in the last 24 hours to the back of your mind. You ate breakfast with Emily and Tara, thanked them for their company last night and assured them that yes, you were okay, that yes, you knew you could turn up at any time, day or night, and that again, yes, you were absolutely certain you were okay. You worked through your shift at the diner, being as cheerful as you could with your colleagues and customers, and doing your best to not think about how you were going to smash everything Spencer thought he knew about his family into tiny pieces. Luke provided a distraction although he could apparently tell your mind was elsewhere. 

"You okay?" 

"Huh? Yeah... Erm sure." You'd been staring off into space, not even realising that your burger had broken into two and Roxy was devouring the half that had fallen to the diner floor. 

"You're not okay. Do you wanna talk about it?" 

You did. You so badly did. And Luke was so easy to talk to, even easier than Tara and Emily. But you couldn't tell him until Spencer knew even if you knew that Luke would keep your secret. 

"I can't. I need to figure some stuff out first. But thank you, I appreciate the offer." 

Luke nodded, his darks eyes showing concern but he did not press the subject. Your friendship had grown to the point where he could tell when you were upset but knew when not to push. When the time was right you would open up and you knew you'd feel lighter for talking to Luke about it. But the time was not right tonight and he knew that. 

"UGH!" 

You both glanced over to where Hayley was perched at the counter. The diner was quiet, it was nearing closing time and just Luke and Roxy and a table of two regulars were in. H had settled down to do some school work and now looked ready to tear her hair out, throwing her pen across the counter in frustration. 

"You okay?" You hauled yourself out of the booth you and Luke had been seated in, him following you. 

"No! I hate creative writing assignments so much but I need to get a good grade to pass the class. I just... I can't do it. I can picture a scene in my head but I can't get the words down onto paper!" 

The girl was close to tears and you remembered those days. Back when school work was so important to you, especially creative writing. 

"Okay, so what's the assignment. What story are you try to tell?" You reached for the pages she'd been scribbling on, Luke reading over your shoulder as Hayley told you both the assignment and what she was trying to write. 

"I just.... It's all coming out wrong! I can't do it and I'm going to fail and then I won't get into college and I'll never get out of this town." She threw her hands up in the air and then slumped over the table defeated. 

"H, you're not going to fail. I took creative writing in college, I used to want to be a writer. The story that you're trying to tell is on the page, you just gotta work on your structure a little. Here, I'll help." You hopped into the stool next to her and started to point at different sections, explaining how they could be worded differently and where she was going wrong. 

You didn't see the smile on Luke's face as he watched you helping her, him remembering how you'd told him how passionate you'd been about writing all those years ago. You also didn't see him clear his own table, or the one of the other regulars as they were getting ready to leave, just so you two weren't interrupted. Before you even realised it, he was tapping on your shoulder and telling you the diner was closed and that he was heading off. 

"Ah crap, we gotta wipe down the tables and close up, H." 

"No you don't, I've done it all for you. You just need to sort the cash register because I was not going near that. But I've done the tables and refills." 

Your eyes widened in suprise. "You... you didn't have to do that." 

He shrugged. "I know. But you were helping Hayley and you looked like you were enjoying it." 

You had been. It had been so long since you'd felt any enjoyment from words on a page but tonight there had been that flicker of a fire reigniting somehow deep inside of you, the embers of a once dead passion sparking once more. 

"I'm gonna head out now. I won't be around for the next few nights, it's parents evening up at the school, but I'll see you at the weekend as usual?" 

You nodded and thanked him again, H also throwing in a heartfelt thanks. You followed him to the door and flipped the sign behind him, clicking the latch. 

"I'll cash up if you wanna keep working and then we can go over it again if you like? Unless you want to call it a night and work on it tomorrow?" 

H scrunched her face up. "It kinda needs to be in tomorrow. I've been putting it off for weeks." 

You couldn't help but laugh to yourself. "Looks like we're staying behind then." 

You finished up and then hopped back up onto the stool next to her, the time completely flying by as you helped her finish her assignment. When you were both sure it was as good as it could be in the small amount of time you'd been working on it, you called it a night, realising that you were there an hour and a half after your shift had ended and that you had four missed calls from Spencer. You sighed. 

"What's up?" Hayley heard your sigh as she was packing her things away. 

"Nothing, I just forgot to let my husband know I was staying late. He's called a few times." 

"You know, I always forget you're married. You hardly ever talk about him and I always have it in my head that you and Mr Alvez are a thing." 

"Me and Luke? Nah, we're just friends." 

"Okay, well whatever. Thanks so much for all your help tonight. You're the best!" 

Locking up quickly, you both said your goodbyes and you drove home, attempting to mentally prepare yourself for his questions. And they were there, almost as soon as you walked through the door. 

"Where were you!? Your shift ended nearly two hours ago and you've been ignoring my calls!" 

"I was at work Spencer, calm down."

"Don't tell me to calm down. You didn't come home last night and I haven't heard from you at all today. I was worried."

"You weren't worried about me when you threw me out into the rain so what's different now?" His face paled and you almost felt mean. Almost. You pushed passed him in the hallway and made your way into the kitchen, spying a half empty bottle of wine on the counter and quickly pouring a glass. Spencer started to stutter, words coming out which you weren't paying any attention to. 

"Look, Spencer, I'm sorry I didn't answer your calls. I let you know where I was last night and maybe I should have let you know I was going to be late tonight." You supposed that in any normal and loving couple if one of the spouses were going to be very late then they would let the other know. When you'd been staying with Emily and Tara you'd seen them both do it all the time. And for now, you were portraying a normal couple, at least until you could figure out how to shatter his memories of his father. 

"Oh. Well yes, you should have." Your apology had apparently thrown him. "Where were you anyway? I was about to call Emily to see if you were there again."

"I was at work still actually. Hayley needed help on a creative writing assignment that's due tomorrow. She was panicking and I helped her out. I actually quite enjoyed it as well." You knew that the mention of creative writing would placate him, he was still so obviously desperate for you to be passionate, writer girl that he had in his head he should love. 

"Oh, well. That's very good of you to help her out. And you enjoyed it, does that mean...." 

"It doesn't mean anything right now Spencer. All I did was help her out and I enjoyed helping her out. It made me remember how much I enjoyed writing when I was younger but it doesn't mean anything more than that. I'm sorry I'm late though and if it happens again, I'll try to let you know."

He nodded and you gulped down the glass of wine in your hand, refilling it quickly and offering the bottle to him. He shook his head. 

"It's good though that you enjoyed it. Maybe it will spark something inside you and you'll start writing again." You were about to tell him to drop it but he continued. "I've been thinking about working on something new as well. Perhaps a biography of my father, or maybe there's some unfinished works of his up in the attic or somewhere. If there's anything good I could look into finishing it and co authoring."

His mention of the attic caught your interest and you suddenly had an idea. 

"I'll... I'll try to get up there one morning if you like? I know you don't really have much time and it'll be easier to see up there in the daytime."

He looked suprised but pleasantly so. "Yes, that would be wonderful. I remember my mother saying that were some of his things up there but there's probably so much other junk up there that anything decent will be hard to find. There's no rush though."

It wouldn't be hard to find if Diana knew where the things you wanted to find were. You would call her tomorrow. If Spencer read the journals himself then you wouldn't technically be telling him, just gently pushing him in the direction of the truth. And afterall, he was the one who had mentioned the attic.


	32. Chapter 32

In the end you didn't call Diana. Whilst you had decided that Spencer did need to know about his father in order to hopefully grow as a person, you still needed time it figure it all out. To decide if you really could be the one to do this to him. You knew that if anyone else knew what you were debating they would think it silly. How can you not do this to him after everything he's done to you, they'd say. But ultimately, what had Spencer really done to you? Yes, to many it would appear that he manipulated you into marrying him and staying with him, and when you drilled right down to it, that was the truth. But you had also allowed it to happen. He had used you and you had used him, the offer of a new life and protection for you and your unborn child seeming better than finding your way alone. Sure, your marriage had been stale and stagnant, a pool full of resentment and inane indifference but you had both allowed it to become that way. You could have at least tried to make it a happy relationship but you didn't. Instead you fell right back into the arms of the person who had broken your heart and allowed them to do it again. Your self revelation that you couldn't walk away because you couldn't be the one to leave had made you realise that your own issues were perhaps a lot more deep seated than what you realised and that maybe, you and Spencer were both as bad as each other. So whilst to some people, dropping the bombshell onto Spencer that his father was just simply awful would be repayment for him chucking you out of the house, to you it wasn't. 

As it turned out, you didn't need Diana's help. You'd set your alarm earlier than usual, lying in bed and listening for Spencer to leave and once you heard the door lock behind him, you hauled yourself out of bed, shoved your feet into some sneakers, and located the door to the attic. The homes you lived in previously had simply had a hatch to the roof space, one you needed to access via a ladder. This house being much larger than those places meant that you were blessed with having actually stairs and an actual light. There was a slight damp yet musty smell that came with all attics, and that unsettling feeling that grew worse with every creak of a floorboard or every cobweb that brushed your arm. You learnt to ignore that feeling though, focused on finding what you were looking for and after hunting through boxes for around thirty minutes, you were rewarded. If you could really call it that. 

When you saw the box hidden away at the bottom of a pile, you knew it had to be that. There was simply no way that it couldn't be. Knowing what you now knew about William Reid it seemed just the type of box he would use to store details of his sordid little life in. An old fashioned wooden chest, rather akin to the sort of treasure chest you'd seen in adventure movies as a child. To him it would be exactly the right place to store his records, his treasures, his cheap but cherished mementos of his past. After a quick hunt around for something to break the lock with, you were in, crouched on the dusty floor and leafing through journal after journal. 

They made you feel sick to your stomach. You had only met William a few times but you could not reconcile the man you had known with the same man that had written the words contained within these books. You didn't read much, you couldn't bring yourself to, but what you did read made you truly realise that Spencer hadn't stood chance at all with this man as a role model. The chest didn't contain just words either, polaroids fell out of the pages, all depicting him with women who were different but the same in physical type. It was then that you had to wonder if you yourself would have become a target for your father in law had you lived closer. It also made you wonder if Spencer had ever seen an image of the woman who's letters he'd read. It seemed all too coincidental that you and the women in the images all bore a resemblance to one another. 

Checking your watch you realised that you had been up here for longer than you realised. Delving into a sordid past apparently took time and you had to be at work soon and you needed to shower first. You contemplated what to do with the journals for now, hurriedly shoving them back into the wooden box. After a second of thought you grabbed one, taking it downstairs with you and shoving it into your hand bag. Perhaps you would actually read it at some point, maybe in an attempt to gain some insight into the rather crooked William Reid. 

You showered and made your way into work, the evening passing slowly as there was no Luke to keep you company when the busy rush had died down. You bantered with Jess and Grant instead, playing word association games as you wiped down the tables and cleared up until it was time to leave. 

Spencer was in the kitchen when you arrived home, take out containers on the side. Part of you felt slightly guilty that he wasn't getting a home cooked meal but you quickly shoved that aside. You worked too and he'd gotten by for years without you cooking for him. Plus, if he wanted a home cooked meal, then he was more than capable of learning to make one himself. You did have a peace offering this evening though, two slices of left over lemon pie from the diner that Grant had given you to take home. You plated them up and slid one over to your husband, joining him at the table and eating in uncomfortable silence. 

"I'm all packed up and ready to go tomorrow," Spencer spoke and you frowned. Packed? Ready to go. He caught the frown. "You forgot didn't you? I have a conference for the university. I won't be home until Sunday." 

"Oh, oh yes, I remember." You didn't but he apparently had told you and you just hadn't listened. That seemed to be a common occurrence between you and him. "I didn't realise it was this week, that was all." 

"Well I need to get an early start so I'll be heading up to bed shortly." 

"Yes, yes of course." You noticed that you both had finished eating so you stood and retrieved you plates, taking them over to the sink. Spencer followed you, standing behind you, closer than he had in a while. You spun around to face him wondering what was up. 

"Y/N, when I get back from this trip do you think we could start...." he gulped and you realised you knew where this was going. "Do you think we could start sharing a bed again, it's been so long and things have been so much better between us recently." 

He placed his hands on your shoulders and you desperately tried not to flinch at his touch. You swallowed a few times, the walls of the room suddenly feel very close to you, almost claustrophobic. 

When he didn't respond he continued, slowly running his hands up and down your arms in a way which if someone you loved would have done, you would have found it sensual but because it was him, it make your stomach turn slightly. 

"I'm not saying we have to do anything right away, just share a room. We can ease into the... the intimacy. I've missed you." 

If you didn't say yes then you'd have to give him a reason and right now didn't have one. Or at least one you were willing to give at the moment, you still had some things to figure out. 

"Erm... Yeah okay. When you get back we can talk about it some more." 

His face lit up and you immediately felt guilty. It felt like you were actively leading him on now and you guessed that in a way you were. 

"Good, I'm so glad. For now though, before I leave, could I..." He placed his hand under your chin gently, tilting it upwards to him and you locked eyes with him. His were fill of yearning and desire although you had no idea what he would see in your own. He didn't wait for your response, lowering his head to yours and placing his lips to your own. You let him hold them there for a moment, thinking it wouldn't be so bad but them he started to move, his hands moving to your waist, his body pressing against yours. You froze as his lips parted, his tongue pressing to your mouth and asking to be let in and then you reacted. You tried to pull back but his lips followed yours and you had nowhere to go, your body pressed up against the counter. 

"Spencer..." You croaked out before his lips captured yours again, more forcefully this time, the grip his hands had on your waist growing tighter. 

"Spencer..... Stop!" You whipped your head back as far as it would go and placed your hands to his chest, shoving him backwards. He looked startled, stepping backwards and knocking into one of the chairs. 

"What.. What's wrong?" 

"What you were doing! You can't just...." 

He blinked a few times, confusing crossing his face. "But.... But you said we could start sharing a room again. I just thought... I just thought we could kiss." 

"I said we could talk about it! And could you not feel that I wasn't responding. Could you not tell that I didn't want that?!" You edged around him, moving to the kitchen door and grabbing your bag. 

"You didn't?" 

"No!" 

"But.... Y/N, we're married. It's what married people do." 

"Spencer, it's what happily married people do and only when both people want it! I wasn't... I didn't...I'm going to go...." 

His eyes flashed and his face changed, falling completely. "Please... Please don't go. I'm sorry, I misread the situation. I didn't mean to... I didn't.... Y/N, I'm sorry. Please don't leave." 

Had he misread it? Or was he trying to take something he thought was his? He seemed genuinely sorry, and distraught at the realisation that you hadn't been into it. You just couldn't believe that he couldn't tell. But then again, Spencer didn't always see what was right in front of him, his own mother had said that much. 

"Please don't leave. I'm sorry Y/N, so sorry. I'm away until Sunday anyway so you'll have the house to yourself. Just please don't leave." 

You nodded, deciding not to burden Tara and Emily with your presence. This was just a misunderstanding. 

"I won't leave. Not today. I am going to bed though, I just, I can't be in the same room as you right now."


	33. Chapter 33

The next few days passed by far too quickly for your liking. Although it wasn't your home, being in the house when Spencer wasn't there felt more comfortable for you, perhaps because you knew you didn't have to lie to him or make polite conversation. You could just be yourself. In the few days he wasn't there you didn't bother drinking any alcohol. Although you had drank wine at Emily and Tara's, drinking at the house seemed to be directly linked to being around Spencer. You needed the booze to help you deal with him and that was unhealthy, that much you realised. 

You wanted to talk to someone about the incident with Spencer in the kitchen but at the same you knew that if you spoke to Emily, Tara or Luke they would all demand that you leave and never return. And as much as you had felt a moment of concern and panic, you didn't think he would have taken it any further. You could almost understand why he had done it, knowing what you did about his father. It didn't excuse it, not one little bit, but you understood why. 

Spencer must have been feeling bad though. Each day since the incident there was a bunch of flowers delivered to yourself at the diner from him. Both H and Jess thought it was sweet but Grant and Kate had sensed some trepidation from you, both asking if everything was okay. You brushed them off, thanking them for their concern and just explaining that you'd had a disagreement and it was his way of apologising which was kind of the truth. You just didn't explain what the disagreement was. The bunches of flowers went to the high-school girls though, a gesture you were sure Spencer would think sweet if you told him that the girls had fawned over the bouquets. 

Luke had questioned your regifting of them on Saturday when he reappeared at the diner for his evening meal. 

"Do you not like sunflowers or something? That's a pretty big bunch." 

You shook your head. "I detest them. I don't even know why." 

"Usually when a husband buys a wife flowers, it's her favourite kind rather than the one she hates. Is it a passive aggressive apology?" 

"Nope. He genuinely thinks sunflowers are my favourite flower." 

"So you've told him that?" He raised an eyebrow as he fed Roxy a piece of bacon. 

"No. He just assumed. When I was in his class I wrote a story about a girl who's favourite flower was sunflowers. The story wasn't even a happy one, she died. But I think he thinks that because I wrote that character, that it means they're my favourite." 

"That's an odd thing to assume. So he never actually asked..." 

"And I never corrected him, it was just easier to accept them and leave them to die on the windows in the New York apartment." 

"Out of curiosity, what is your favourite?" 

You didn't even have to think. "Daisies and bluebells. My aunt used to grow them in her garden and I used to sit out there in the summer, right next to them as I devoured stacks of books. My aunt once told me that my mom's favourite was sunflowers but I don't remember that all." 

"Do you remember much about her?" Luke asked quietly. You didn't speak about your early years very often. 

"Honestly, no. I don't remember much before her leaving at all. It's like she's a ghost to me. She existed and I remember some things like how she always smelt of oranges but everything about that time is a little blurry. I think maybe, because she left, I've blocked her out?" 

"Maybe." He changed the subject quickly after that, making plans for your walk the following day. Because you weren't sure what time Spencer was to arrive home, he was still going to pick you up from Tara and Emily's but he wanted to walk a different route and you had no objections. 

Hayley had gotten a B+ on her writing assignment. She'd blown into the diner the previous evening, ambushing you with a hug and causing you to nearly drop the stack of plates you were collecting. 

"This is the best grade I've gotten on a writing assignment ever!!" 

You relieved yourself of your load and hugged her back, feeling warmth and pride spreading through your body. 

"See. You could do it! I'm proud of you H." 

"I only got such a good grade because of your help." She reached into her bag, taking out something and holding it out for you, somewhat shyly. "I, erm... I made you this. I worked through my lunch at school, I wanted to say thanks." 

You took the item from her, turning it over in your hands. It was a bracelet, an intricately woven one, with a charm dangling from it, some form of metal cut into the shape of a your first initial. It was beautiful. 

"You made this?" You asked her and she nodded, a blush forming on her cheeks. "It's gorgeous. Put it on me?" 

She grinned as she attached it to your wrist. "It's kinda what I want to do when I'm older. Create jewellery. But my dad says I need to have something to fall back on so I just do it on the side for now." 

"Well you're very talented H, thank you." 

She brushed off your thanks and rushed behind the counter to stash her things, ready to start her shift. Everytime you caught sight of the bracelet for the rest of the evening you felt a sense of warmth rushing through you. Someone had made it for you, specifically just for you, just to say thank you. When you finished your shift that night and fell into bed, it was with a smile on your face. 

Your Sunday hike with Luke was as usual, just the escape you needed. Fresh air and being surrounded by nature was something you never thought you'd actually enjoy but it was now such a part of your routine that you knew you'd hate it if you had to give it up.

"So if you go anywhere in the world on vacation, where would you go?" Luke asked you as Roxy trotted ahead. 

"There's so many places I'd actually like to visit if I got the chance to, but I think right now, I'd say Italy."

"Really? That's my number one choice too. Rome and Florence...." 

"Venice and Sorrento," you continued on. An image flashed before your eyes then, one you had to push aside because it seemed so perfect that it would never be allowed. You and Luke, eating gellato and drinking espresso in St Mark's Square, just watching the other tourists go by. Your phone vibrating in your pocket pulled you away from imagining anymore and you grimaced when you saw Spencer's name on your screen. You showed it to Luke before you answered, so he knew to be quiet.

"Hello," emotion drained from your voice as you answered your husband's call. 

"Y/N hi, I'm just checking you'll be home for dinner this evening. You're out on your hike this afternoon, aren't you?" 

"Yes, I am, we're on the middle of the trail now. And yes, I will." This was a standing arrangement now and you were always home for dinner. 

"You're with Tara and Emily, right?" 

"Yes Spencer, like I always am."

"Okay, I'll see you later." He disconnected the call and you just shook your head, continuing your walk with Luke and Roxy, not thinking anything of it. 

... 

Spencer had been exhausted after his conference but had decided that after the way he had behaved the other day, he needed to make it up to you and flowers just weren't enough. He'd cook, he decided. He could manage if he followed a recipe. He'd pulled into the grocery store and was about to round an aisle when he spotted your friends, Tara and Emily, in the wine aisle. And you weren't with them. 

He took a step back, moving out of eye and earshot of them, retrieving his phone from his pocket and calling your number. 

And when you answered, you claimed to be out on a hiking trail with the two very same people that were in the next aisle along. 

Well then.

**Author's Note:**

> It's a big ask but if you’re enjoying my content and you’re financially able to then you may consider buying me a Ko-Fi as a way of financially supporting my writing. Many thanks to you if you do, it means so much to me that anyone might enjoy my work enough to dontate to me
> 
> https://ko-fi.com/cherrywhisp..


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